Stargate Reopened
by andrewjameswilliams
Summary: Joint fic with Keiran Halcyon and Wolf of Dawn. An AU reimagination of Stargate SG-1.
1. Chapter 1: The End of Ra

_**Stargate Reopened**_

**Authors Note: This story is the result of a joint project between myself, Keiran Halcyon and Wolf of Dawn on spacebattles . com and is an AU of the canon Stargate universe. While the three of us have absolutely nothing against the canon timeline as depicted in SG-1 and Atlantis we couldn't help but notice a number of problems with the timeline. This is our attempt to correct them.**

* * *

_**Chapter One: The End of Ra**_

**22nd June 1995,  
****Stargate Room,**

**Ra's Pyramid, Abydos **

**312 Light Years Core ward from Earth.**

As a veteran of Black Ops that would never see the light of day both during the Cold War and later the Gulf War, Jonathan 'Jack' O'Neill, full bird Colonel in the United States Air Force, could say that he had experienced extremely crazy and F.U.B.A.R. situations in his time. The Op in East Germany, where thanks to screwed up Intel his entire team had been picked off by a Stazi ambush always stood out as a great example. Then there was getting left behind at an LZ in the Gulf and then enjoying six months of quality POW time with Saddam's goon squad. That was an experience that held more than its share of F.U.B.A.R. moments.

Hearing the gunshot that claimed his son's life was the worst of them all though.

He was setting a new standard for himself now though; stuffing the head of a human masquerading as a god into a Ring-like Matter-Energy Transport Device on a desert planet three hundred light years away from Earth, and sending it to the parasitical alien who called himself RA of all things…this was an entirely new level of fucked up.

A flash of light, and the struggling alien went slack under Jack's grip.

The Rings retreated back into the ceiling to reveal two semi-conscious people that had come down from the ship. One was the native Abydonian woman, Sha're, who had supposedly married the man lying next to her, Daniel Jackson. Jack put out of his mind the fact that he had just seen her get killed by the guard whose head they had just swapped places with. He had more important things to consider right now; such as the timer to the nuclear bomb counting down on the other side of large room within the Pyramid.

It read one minute fifty three seconds.

He rushed over to it, typed his keycode into the small console, and hit the bright red kill-switch.

Nothing happened. The timer continued and was now past one minute forty three. Frowning he pulled out the separate Timer Module…the time continued advancing. He groaned in frustration and let fly with a frustrated, "You gotta be kiddin me!"

At one minute thirty three, he began to desperately tap new commands into the keypad while drawing on the training he had received in the past. As an Air Force officer that had flown nukes around in B52s and the Stealth Bomber he had to have the skills to manually disarm any bomb he flew around. It had been a while since he had last practiced, but he felt all the procedures and commands coming back to the forefront of his mind. There was nothing like the threat of an impending nuclear reaction in one's face to restore the memory.

His focus was absolute as he continued to try, purposefully not looking at the timer. Then the entire pyramid began to shake and he inwardly cursed as he lost concentration for a moment. Listening to the deafening sounds accompanying the mini-quake he could come to only one conclusion; Ra was leaving.

He heard footsteps behind him as he tried to refocus on the apparently rigged weapon in front of him.

"How much time do we have left?" asked Daniel Jackson.

"Forty five seconds," Jack commented shortly, his finger typing as fast as possible.

The archaeologist pointed to the ceiling. "He's leaving. Turn it off!"

"I'm trying to," snapped Jack. The last program code procedure he knew had no effect. "I can't disarm it."

Daniel blinked at Jack and yelled out a slightly panicked, "What?"

"I can't stop it! They've got it rigged." Jack stepped back and inwardly cursed the asshole that was General West. It could only have been his order that turned the nuke into a one-way ticket. He couldn't believe that after surviving all the shit he had been through in his life that he would die next to a nerdy, wrongly discredited archaeologist. At least he wouldn't feel a thing and it would be quick.

They watched as the timer went past forty five seconds.

Sha're awakened at this point from her bout of unconsciousness and backed away from the headless corpse of the Anubis guard warily. The rumbling stopped, Ra's ship was airborne. The timer reached thirty eight seconds. Jack whipped his head around to meet Daniel's eyes and he could see the same idea reflected in them.

"I've got an idea."

They hurried forward and Jack took the lower end of the cylindrical nuke, whilst Daniel reached for the upper.

"On three, two and three." With a heave Jack lifted, Daniel guiding his own end until the device tipped over and the weight was shared between them. They moved as fast as they dared, not wanting to trip and let the heavy nuke fall and wasting what little time they had left.

At twenty six seconds they had managed to carry the nuke within the perimeter of the Transport Rings. Jack let down his end first, and Daniel was startled by the sudden shift in weight that he almost over-compensated for the weight and would've tipped the device over. He caught himself just in time, and hurried away.

Jack pulled the Anubis guard's remains out of the way and ripped off the gauntlet housing the Ring's activation jewel on it. He joined a gasping Daniel and watched as the nuke counted down past fifteen seconds.

"Think this will work with Ra's ship in orbit?"

"Only…one way to find out."

"One load of highly concentrated sunshine, coming up!" Jack thumbed the jewel and it lit up. The now characteristic scream of obsidian metal on metal, heralded the five Rings coming back down again, landing perfectly a foot above from each other, and surrounding the nuke. With a blinding white flash light the weapon underwent dematerialization and was gone.

"C'mon," Jack beckoned Daniel and Sha're to follow him outside.

They needed no further encouragement.

Jack emerged first and it was to the sound of jubilant cheers coming from the crowd of Abydonians on the long stone entranceway; who were all looking up into the clear blue sky. He looked up in the same direction and was treated to the sight of massive explosion in low orbit of the planet which, all-too-rapidly for Jack's satisfaction, began dissipating in the void of space.

_'We've done it,'_ Jack thought with grim satisfaction. He'd never imagined that he would be the one to go down in history as 'firing' the third nuclear weapon his country had ever used in anger. It wasn't exactly a career point he'd wanted, but at least it was done to protect an entire planet, possibly two, from destruction at the hands of an alien.

His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion amongst the Abydonians. Kawalski and Ferretti, members of his team on this FUBAR expedition, were walking up the ramp with wide grins of elation at their collective victory. They were followed closely by Skaara, the swarthy young man who had dared to defy a god, with his contingent of 'militia'. The ragtag team of combatants came to a stop and his two officers saluted. Skaara and the militia quickly followed the men's example.

Jack allowed a genuine grin to show on his face, and returned their salute. The unmistakable sound of kissing reached his ears, and he turned to see Daniel and Sha're rather thoroughly enjoying the activity.

_'Guess he doesn't mind being her 'husband'_, he thought.

Kasuf, the Abydonian Elder, raised his hands and the crowd instantly quieted allowing him to begin a triumphant speech. Jack had no idea what was being said since Daniel was still rather busy with his wife, but the tone of what the man was saying, along with his body language and the crowd's response, managed to break through the language barrier.

They were free now. No more living in fear from a false alien god. No longer did they have to slave away in the mines, nor give up their most beautiful and strong into the service of Ra. They weren't 'things' any more. They were people now…human, and free to choose their own way of life. Jack wondered if this was what the American Abolitionists like Harriet Tubman and Henry Garnet had felt like during the first half of the nineteenth century.

It was too bad that he would never feel like that again.

* * *

Now that the seventh symbol on the Abydonian Stargate was known the way back to Earth was open, but there was a lot of preparation to do before it could happen. Ferretti, Kawalski and a couple of the Abydonian boys were busy gathering all the mission gear back onto the FRED mobile cargo platform. There was also the grim task of collecting the bodies of those who had died fighting against Ra and his fake lesser gods.

The Abydonian dead were collected and buried in moving and utterly unique ceremonies. What Jack remembered most about them was how they would figuratively weigh the soul of the deceased against a feather on a ceremonial scale; if the soul was lighter than the feather, the spirit could pass into the blessed afterlife. Of course, the scale never wavered, but it was the thought behind it and the tradition that mattered most.

Then there was the matter of two men he had lost. Lieutenant Brown had been killed by a staff weapon, and last he had seen his body was still in that water prison pit on Ra's ship. This meant that there was no body to take home to the man's family. Captain Freeman had also fallen in the final battle, also to an energy weapon. His body was now wrapped in a black body bag and carefully placed in the FRED, for return Earth and a full military burial.

He inwardly grimaced at the idea that he would have to write another of those damn letters to the family; filled with lies on how their brother, son or uncle had died. He had written far too many of those over the course of his career.

"Colonel."

Jack sighed wearily. "What is it, Jackson?"

"Uh, I just wanna, uh…you see…"

A glance showed that Jackson, still clad in the Abydonian robes, was practically itching to get something off his chest. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was struggling to articulate.

"You want to stay."

"Uh," he grinned uncomfortably as Jack sent him a narrow eyed measuring stare. "Yes…I, uh, it's the chance of a lifetime, and…" The young archaeologist sent a look to where Sha're and group of similarly aged women were huddled together, giggling and gossiping as only women could.

"Come with me," Jack requested, and without pausing to wait walked out of the Stargate Room. He only stopped once they were outside of the Pyramid and well down the walkway. The late afternoon sun cast everything in a red sheen and already the temperature was plummeting. Jack kept his eyes fixed on the beautiful view of the desert and only spoke after hearing Daniel's footsteps coming to a stop next to him. "I'll let you stay, Jackson. I wouldn't get too comfortable though if I were you."

"What do you mean?"

"Ra's death changes things. The Earth Stargate won't need to be buried."

It was Daniel's turn to give a shrewd glance to the Air Force Colonel. "You're thinking that General West will want to set up an outpost here."

"Oh he will and he won't be the only one." Jack nodded firmly. "And it won't just be an outpost for long."

"Colonel, the Abydonians…"

"I know what you're going to say," Jack cut his impending objection off. "The fact of the matter is that Abydos is a planet of strategic importance now. It has a mine of the Stargate mineral; which I can bet you anything the eggheads back home will want to experiment with. You've seen what Ra can do with it, and when the General reads that in my report…"

"This planet belongs to the Abydonians, Colonel…"

"Of course it does," Jack agreed with astonishment. "Japan belongs to the Japanese, and last I checked there was still a US Airbase on Okinawa. We'll sign a treaty with Kasuf…and yes, I know he doesn't read; that's what you'll be there for."

Turning to face the archeologist Jack continued, "Oh, and let's not forget," he gestured to where the two drooping wing C-shaped alien fighter craft were landed. "Area 51's gonna want to take those things apart piece by piece for study. Not to mention the staff weapons we took from Ra's goons, and who knows what other gizmos and treasures are buried or hidden away in that pyramid and in Nagada City. I'll even recommend to the General about assigning you to head the archaeological team. That way you can stay with your wife and have the job you've always dreamed about." Jack saw out of the corner of his eye that Daniel was visibly considering it.

There were other aspects that Jack knew would be considered as well that he didn't mention. The strategic value of a place your enemies could never reach was enormous; usages ranging from nearly spy-proof R&D sites to an untouchable industrial complex were simply invaluable. Having a completely safe place to evacuate to if things went F.U.B.A.R. on Earth would certainly also rank highly on the list of considerations.

"How do you propose to compensate the Abydonians? So far this is all a one way street going in Earth's direction."

Jack shot the younger man a look that showed he was less than impressed with the man's question.

"Oh for cryin out loud; there are tons of things we could help them out on, take your pick Jackson. I think Nagada could do with a school since they're allowed to actually learn now. Let's start by teaching them how to write their own damn language!"

Jack calmed himself down a bit before continuing, "We can teach these people Jackson. We could send Engineers into the city to improve the infrastructure. Open a clinic. We could even import fresh water from Earth, given the fact they're a desert culture…I could stand here listing things all day. The Abydonians essentially have a proper civilization to build from scratch."

Daniel Jackson pulled off his glasses and wearily rubbed his eyes. He really had sold the Colonel short it seemed. "I see your point. In retrospect, I think perhaps it would've been a little selfish to ask you to report that everyone died back here and you set off the nuke behind you as you left."

"A little selfish, yes," Jack replied dryly. "Although, I can see you're just trying to protect your wife's culture and I respect that. I think you're more worried about General West and the fact that he rigged the bomb. My report will state that and it'll generate waves at the Pentagon. Hell, maybe it'll even stir up the White House; we detonated a nuke and that's something that riles up the suits in Washington. I wouldn't be at all surprised if we find ourselves with a new General in charge of Cheyenne Mountain soon."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Me? I've got some personal issues to sort out at home."

Daniel nodded. "You should consider eventually coming back, Colonel. The Abydonians respect you, Skaara and his boys especially. You were the one who fought and defeated the lesser gods. Both of us killed Ra. If you were the commander of whatever base ends up being established…"

Jack shook his head. "That's not up to me, Jackson."

"Well, I'll speak to Catherine…"

"Don't knock yourself out on my account. I was planning on retiring permanently out of the Air Force, but now." He sighed and gazed upwards at the sky that was in full twilight. "We're on another planet, a place we would've never set foot on within our lifetimes. The stars we could see from here, not to mention that if we can reverse engineer those fighter craft, we'd have easy spacelift here and on Earth…I'd be a fool to walk away from all this."

Daniel held out his hand. "You're not who I expected, Colonel."

He shook it. "Call me, Jack."


	2. Chapter 2: Meeting

_**Chapter Two: Meeting**_

_Dozens of workers strained under the hot sun of the Giza Plateau. Ropes pulled taught slowly lifted a large ring from its long rest buried beneath the ancient sands. Standing alongside her father and Foreman Taylor she heard her father ask in a voice filled with quiet awe, "What in God's name is that?"_

The sound of voices not fitting with the men who stood beside her father brought Catherine Langford back to the present and out of the memories of her past. She looked to the various military officers and other important government officials quietly conversing amongst themselves. Looking for a familiar face the 73 year old Archaeologist began to feel a bit isolated. Not for the first time she had to wonder at General Downing's request that she attend this briefing.

"Thank you for coming Ms. Langford."

Jumping slightly in her seat Catherine turned sharply to look over her left shoulder. A relieved chuckle preceded her responding with a simple, "I'm glad to help General."

General Wayne Downing pulled out the chair beside the former civilian director of _Project Giza_ and sat himself on the edge. "I know this isn't the sort of meeting you enjoy attending Ms. Langford.."

"Please General, just call me Catherine."

"Catherine then; as I was saying I know you have a lot on your plate, but I want to try and put faces with the names that everyone here today is going to have to work closely with. I also want to establish, from the start, that this is as much a civilian operation as military."

"I admit I'm still a bit overwhelmed by what you've put in my lap. Despite that I do owe you for both the opportunity, but also for..."

"Not at all, Catherine. In time the world is going to know, at least to some degree, about all of this and I want to make sure that the contributions your family has made are finally recognized. That aside, I firmly believe that the expertise your civilian scientists provided to _Project Giza_ was invaluable. I want to ensure we have access to that same resource base going forward. Remember we're not just considering the archaeological aspects either; LRI is going to be handling all the non-technical sciences."

Closing her eyes briefly as more memories of the past threatened to overwhelm her emotions Catherine smiled briefly. "Thank you General. For my father, Ernest,...everyone who, well everyone. I promise you that we will do what we can."

"I didn't doubt it. The President agrees that the Langford Research Institute will be an excellent resource not just for what we're doing here, but for humanity as a whole. I'm sure you all will be able to make all sorts of new discoveries here on Earth as well."

With a smile and a chuckle the General stood. "Now if you'll excuse me Catherine, we're only a few minutes away from the Secretary's arrival."

"Of course General."

A soft smile played over her lips. Nearly seventy years since the discovery of the Stargate and finally her father would receive the credit he deserved. Ernest would no longer just be a casualty of a lab accident, and countless hours of her life would no longer just be a crusade to see her father's work completed. After all, if the origins of ancient Gods had been discovered among the stars...who knew what else was waiting to be found.

"Yes," she said quietly to herself while watching the other meeting attendees take their seats, "we will make it worth the sacrifices papa."

* * *

Major General George Hammond leaned back in his chair and swept the room with his eyes. Around the central collection of tables was a veritable buffet of the top names, both military and civilian, in the US defense community. The Texas native was used to being among the "top brass", anyone with a star on their shoulder was, but this gathering was something else altogether. His blue eyes shifted from their roving observation to the large briefing binding on the table before him.

The black 5 inch d-ring binder was a rather imposing bit of reading material. Large red print emblazoned on the front cover proclaimed the contents to be "Top Secret", "Sensitive Compartmented Information" and a "Special Access Program". The fact that the binder came with a customized and code-locked seal that Hammond had never seen the likes of had all but confirmed in his mind that this meeting was going to be anything but typical.

"Why do I get the feeling those thoughts of retirement were premature," he considered with a quietly resigned exhale.

"Attention," called out the young Army Captain stationed by the briefing room door. The military personnel immediately rose to their feet while the civilians did so only a moment later.

David Swift, the Secretary of Defense, walked briskly into the room and with a waved gesture gave a simple, "Please be seated," to the gathering.

Once behind the center-most seat at the head table Swift looked out over the attendees and got right to the point. "Thank you all for being here. We have a lot to cover today and most of it you're not going to believe. I hope you can all appreciate that I, at the direction of the President, would not call you all here on a joke. That said we're going to jump right into things."

Looking to his right at an aid standing near the back of the room the Secretary simply nodded. The young woman, armed with large black binder, briskly began to move around the room. Stopping before each attendee she had them sign a sheet within the binder before handing them an almost paper-thin credit card sized hard plastic case from a sleeve on the same page. Once the attendee cracked open the case and removed the thin paper within the aid would move onto the next person on her list.

"The codes you are receiving," Swift explained as the aid worked, "are your personal access codes for the binders before you. Each code is unique to the binder in front of you. Please unlock your binders as you receive the codes, but wait until we're all ready to open the briefing material."

After nearly fifteen minutes everyone had received their codes and the aid had exited the room. A nod to the Captain still standing beside the door preceded the young man securing the room totally. Turning his attention back to the attendees Swift began the official briefing. "Please open your briefing binders and let's get started."

The white screen behind the secretary flashed briefly as the projector warmed up before an old black and white photo came into focus.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, today I am going to be briefing you on Project Giza and the results thereof..."

* * *

Nearly two hours later George Hammond couldn't help but consider that in his long career Hammond he had only felt so out of his depth once before. He blinked at the thought and couldn't help letting out a quiet wry chuckle to himself as he realized that both situations were most likely connected somehow. "It would certainly explain a few things."

His thoughts were interrupted before he could ponder the potential connection any further. Shifting his posture more upright he gave the Secretary of Defense his full attention.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, if we're all ready to continue," began Secretary David Swift. "Now that you're all up to speed on where we currently stand, General Downing will explain where we're going. General," the Secretary concluded with a nod to the man in question.

At the head of the room the large screen flashed on once again and after a moment a unit seal appeared. Everyone gathered leaned forward in their seats to get a better look at the brand new emblem. The circular image resembled the Stargate's inner ring and positioned inside it with a "wireframe" globe of Earth. Over the top of both the ring and globe a pair of angled swords rose up to support a circular shield at their points. After a moment everyone realized it to be a stylized version of the Stargate Symbol designated as Earth's "point of origin".

After giving everyone a moment to examine the seal on the screen While the meeting's attendees considered the image before them General Downing moved to stand at the center of the collection of tables. When he saw that he had everyone's attention he the General began his portion of the briefing.

"Good afternoon. As the Secretary said you are all now familiar with the particulars of the Air Force's Project Giza and its results. Ever since the mission team returned and filed their briefing discussions have been held at the highest levels as to what our next course of action should be."

Light blue eyes swept the gathering before he continued.

"It has been decided that the Stargate and Abydos present far too great a potential to simply give up. However, the that potential presented by the Stargate should not, and will not, be limited to the Air Force alone. As such, effective last night a new Unified Combatant Command has been established and I have been assigned as the Combatant Commander. The emblem you see on the screen is that of the United States Stargate Operations Command."

Murmurs broke out around the room. After giving everyone a moment to process the news Downing continued.

"My first act as the CCDR was to relieve General West of his command of Project Giza and the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Effective immediately, I have named General George Hammond as his replacement."

George Hammond blinked in shock. When he received his orders to attend this meeting there had certainly been no mention of this. He had been told that the meeting would designate his new assignment, but he hadn't been expecting to hear he would be replacing West. Realizing his thoughts about a delay in retirement had been correct George quickly threw off his shock and refocused on the General. Judging by what they had learned so far at least his new assignment would be anything but dull. What he wasn't clear on, however, was what exactly that assignment meant if the Project was being shifted under General Downing and a new command. His confusion showed on his face and with a smirk Downing addressed the issue.

"General Hammond you will be taking up the role of Commanding General, US Air Force Stargate Operations and will report directly to me. Congratulations are in order as well as the position comes with a promotion to Lt. General."

A quiet round of congratulations crossed the room from those who knew Hammond.

"Thank you sir," was all that the Texan could really think to say at the moment, but thankfully it was enough.

Downing responded with a wry grin, "Don't thank me just yet Hammond."

George Hammond chuckled and nodded. He understood the message; the job was by no means going to be low-stress.

"Joining Hammond will be General Ryan Hayston as Commanding General, US Army Stargate Operations. Vice Admiral Kurt Lathman will be acting as Commanding Admiral, US Navy Stargate Operations. Last, but certainly not least, will be General Frances Winndon and Vice Admiral Lindsey Donavin as Commanding Generals US Marine Corps Stargate Operations and US Stargate Material Command respectively."

Nods of acknowledgement and congratulations once again passed around the room as the newly appointed commanders took a moment to take in the news. Downing hated springing these changes like this, but time was not something on their side. They needed to get out ahead of so many different issues that he was already feeling a month or ten behind.

"Additionally, from the CIA Craig Vandermill will be taking up the position of Deputy Director, CIA Directorate of Stargate Services. Yvonne Blake will be acting as Deputy Director, NSA Stargate Intelligence Directorate. Jose Deroya will be rounding things out as the Deputy Director, DARPA Stargate Technologies Office."

General Downing paused in the briefing to offer his own congratulations to the civilian directors who suddenly found themselves assigned to branches of their organizations which didn't exist five minutes before. Around the room the air began to have an almost tangible feel of anticipation. The vast majority of the meetings attendees were just coming to realize exactly how deep this rabbit whole was going to go.

"I can tell most of you are starting to see just how big this thing is. It's unprecedented to task entire branches of our civilian agencies to a military command. However, it's necessary in this case. The security behind the Stargate and its associated projects must be as tight as possible. Thus, we must do everything in-house and that means a totally dedicated command structure for all possible areas."

Suddenly the image behind the General shifted from the Stargate Operations Command emblem to a simple logo displaying the letters LRI.

"The contributions to Project Giza by Doctors Langford and Jackson cannot be overlooked. Point in fact, had it not been for Dr. Jackson the mission team would never have been able to return home and we'd have never learned the true history of Ra and the people of Abydos. To that end we are helping Dr. Langford organize and start the Langford Research Institute. The LRI will be acting as our non-technical science house. Dr. Langford will speak more about LRI in a bit."

All eyes shifted briefly to the elder woman seated at the head table. She offered a friendly, if somewhat embarrassed, smile.

"Now," the General once again began as the image behind him shifted again, "let me introduce you to Stargate Command; the US's first off-world base."

Jaws dropped and eyes went wide around the room as the image on the screen resolved into what was obviously an artist's conceptual rendering of a brand new military base. The aerial view of the base revolved around a series of building complexes spread around a wide open space. In the center of the base four large buildings formed what was labeled as the SGC HQ. Near the mines of the Stargate mineral a massive collection of obviously industrial buildings were marked as refineries, power plants, factories and foundries. Other building collections were titled as Intelligence Command, and Area 51. Located near the edge of the base, and between Nagada City and the Temples was a large building marked "Gateway Center".

"Stargate Command, or the SGC, will be a totally self-sufficient installation located on 390 square miles of Abydonian land. We have leased the land and associated mineral rights from the Abydonian People in exchange for a wide array of goods and services. I want everyone to take a good look at these images and listen closely because most of you will be spending a great deal of time at the SGC in the years to come."

General Downing continued to detail what the overall plan for the SGC was to be but only a fraction of it was truly registering with Hammond. The entire meeting, as surreal as it had been before, was just becoming a bit more than he could process in one sitting. As absurd as he later realized the thought was, he couldn't help but wonder where they had gotten artist renderings for the base so quickly.

* * *

The Cheyenne Mountain Complex, home of NORAD and formerly Project Giza, was a madhouse. The sounds of heavy machinery, shouted orders, and a plethora of power tools echoed through the cement corridors of all 28 levels of the facility. Since its inception the Complex has been an impressive site considering the engineering effort to cut into a mountain and then 28 levels down into the Earth. Now, however, the Mountain was truly turning into something to behold.

Redesigning an underground complex is far easier said than done. Massive excavation work to further expand both into the mountain and underground was required to install 3 Mass Cargo Elevators. The elevators themselves were easily built following similar specifications as those on aircraft carriers, but making the space for the elevators was another matter altogether. However, once the excavation was complete the rest of the remodeling was far easier as larger equipment could be brought into the existing complex.

If remodeling an underground facility was a headache then trying to process through hundreds of tons of materials into the base and through the Stargate was simply insanity. Yet, that task was exactly what had fallen to Vice Admiral Lindsey Donavin as the Commander of Stargate Material Command. Working from temporary offices roaming throughout all levels of the complex during construction Admiral Donavin and her staff were tasked with making sure one of the largest construction efforts ever undertaken by the US Military, much less in secret, was done on schedule.

It was days like this one that made the Admiral wonder why she ever accepted the position.

Looking around the massively disarrayed and distinctly not ship-shape office Lindsey couldn't help but laugh quietly. If any other Flag Officer's staff had let an office get to this condition there would have been courts marshaling all around. Here and now, however, it was a sign that she had been blessed by what was turning out to be an excellent staff. Despite the apparent chaos of the room Donavin knew that her staff would be able to find whatever she, or they, needed at a moment's notice.

Standing and stretching for a moment she reflected on just how much had actually been accomplished in such a short period of time. Originally she had claimed it would take at least two years to complete the massive renovations to the complex. That was before the she practically had the Army Corps of Engineers "storm the keep". Apparently the single greatest way to get something built was to tell the Army they couldn't do it in a short time frame. If only that method worked with the crews working the Navy Yards.

Nodding to her aid she stepped out into "the warzone" as she liked to call the under-renovation halls of the complex. A short walk and long elevator ride later she reached level 28 and approached the mostly-intact control room for the Stargate. Through the observation window she watched as pallet after pallet and crate after crate was pushed through the wormhole to Abydos.

"That was shipment 18 correct?"

"Yes Ma'am," replied one of the Air Force Technical Sergeants working the controls.

Nodding mostly to herself Donavin couldn't help but be further impressed by her staff. The sheer tonnage of supplies they were proving to be capable of moving every 38 minutes was staggering. She would be putting every last person under her command up for commendations once things settled down. The rate things were moving the Stargate Command base on Abydos would be completed far ahead of schedule.

Abruptly the gate shut down and the "supply train" halted at the base of the ramp. Almost immediately the sound of the gate dailing echoed up from the gate room. Within minutes the connection to Abydos had been reattained and the supplies began to move again.

"Fine work everyone. Let's keep it up. Our supply transfer rate is going to drop once we start sending people through too so we need to make this time count."

A chorus of "Aye Aye" and "Yes Ma'am" rung in the air and Lindsey couldn't keep the proud smile off her face. Yes, she was proud of her command despite all the headaches she had to endure each day.


	3. Chapter 3: Journey to Abydos

_**Chapter Three: Journey to Abydos**_

**29****th**** July 1995**

**Cheyenne Mountain Complex**

**Colorado, United States**

**Earth**

Passing through security was something Doctor Bill Lee, PhD in Mechanical and Material Science was very familiar with. The now decommissioned Area 51 facility in Groom Lake, Nevada had been his home for the last fifteen years, and he was somewhat sad to leave it behind. He had achieved much there, working on the materials and systems that was going into the new F22 Air superiority fighter, which would be ensuring America's dominance in the skies of Earth for another generation.

Now it seemed that fighter, in its current design at least, would not even make it to production.

The guard was finally satisfied with his credentials and so was the computer fingerprint scanner. This allowed the chubby, balding scientist in his chequered suit into the main personnel elevator on Sub Level Twelve, the boundary between NORAD and the most highly sensitive and secret location in the United States; Stargate Logistics Command.

He thumbed the button for SL Fourteen after swiping his card and hummed a catchy Zelda tune, while waiting for the elevator to finish its descent. He emerged and followed the helpful 'Coded' directions painted on the spartan concrete walls towards his destination.

He knocked and the door was opened by a fresh faced Army Lieutenant looking as if he could have just jumped out of a recruitment poster, so immaculate and perfect was his Class A uniform.

"Ah, Dr Lee, the General is expecting you." Lieutenant Yates…the name badge on his right chest read… stepped out of the way allowing Lee entrance into a small office, that seemed to be the Lieutenant's domain. He led the way and knocked on another door on the opposite side of the room.

"Enter!"

Yates opened this one fractionally. "Dr Lee is here, Sir."

"Ah good, let him in."

Lee entered a decidedly much larger and well appointed office; a large oak desk polished to perfection, carpeting on the floors, comfortable leather seats for guests and even a nice long sofa stretched along one wall. A large bookcase dominated another, filled with perfectly spaced books on all sorts of subjects, but obviously military history, law and science was the most numerous among them. Also on the walls were numerous framed awards and medals; a picture of a family was the largest and most prominent, and was mounted so that it always faced the occupant seated behind the large desk.

Four Star Army General Wayne Allan Downing looked remarkably young for a fifty five year old, and Lee wished he would age just as well in the next decade until he reached that point. The man's receding dark blond hair was starting to show speckles of gray, but his blue eyes were vital and full of energy. He also projected a leadership charisma that Lee could feel permeating the room; it was very clear at once why this man had reached the top of the military ladder.

"Dr Lee," Downing stood from his desk and approached Lee.

"General," the two men shook hands.

"Before we begin I'd like you to meet someone you'll be working with, I'm not sure if you're familiar with each other yet." A woman stood in Air Force Blues from one of the guest seats, and Bill Lee was indeed familiar with her.

"Captain Carter."

"Good to see you again, Dr Lee," the statuesque blonde politely shook his hand as well.

"You're going to be working with me on Project Eagle," Lee felt delighted. Samantha Carter had been one of the main minds behind getting the Stargate operational in the first place along with himself. He had designed the Superconductive Power Interfaces, whilst she had been the genius behind the programming of the Gate Control Computer. The Captain also had a few PhDs under her belt, the main one being Astrophysics. Of course, that she was easy on the eyes was a distant consideration, but it was there nevertheless.

"That I am," she nodded as they all took a seat.

The General tented his hands for moment, gathering his thoughts. "I wanted to meet you both before you take the next scheduled wormhole to Abydos, because I firmly believe that the work you two will be doing with your team will have the most significant impact on the United States, and by extension, most of the world. Some preliminary experimentation with both alien fighter craft has confirmed that they are indeed a true 'aerospace fighter'. There are controls which extends a transparent canopy around the pilot, which are completely vacuum rated."

"That's extremely good news," Lee enthused, feeling his excitement growing. _Cheap and easy space lift, here we come_, he thought, restraining the urge to jump up and do a small jig of victory.

"Yes it is," agreed Downing. "I'm also to give you full authorization to take apart one of the fighter craft for research purposes. The other will remain intact as a control and so that the Air Force boys can begin familiarization and putting it through its paces. They'll of course be sharing all their findings with Project Eagle."

He turned to Dr Lee. "Doctor, I'm also to tell you that your request for one of the YF-22 prototypes to be dismantled and shipped to Abydos, has been approved. It'll take a while, due to security concerns, but you'll have your fighter."

"Thank you, General. It's the only way I see us moving forward with Project Eagle. For all its amazing abilities, just by looking at a photo and the dimensions of the alien fighter, I can tell that in terms of basic look and design we don't want to produce a straight Earth-engineered copy," Lee explained, his face twisting in distaste.

The Ra Fighter at first glance, wowed you with things like its two plasma cannons, it's extremely strong hull (as according to reports, the 5.56mm bullets from an M16A2 just bounced off it), Anti-gravity technology, and the Inertial Compensators it had to have (again the reports from those who had fought Ra, stated that it had pulled turns in the air overhead that should have turned it's pilot to jello, yet it had not).

Then you looked at it from an 'Earth fighter pilot' perspective, and it became just so much rubbish. It had no missiles and its plasma guns were line of sight targeting only. This meant that in space and even in an atmosphere, the pilot was restricted to idiotically limited engagement ranges. Then there was also that fact that the plasma bolts the fighter shot from the cannons would decay in the vacuum and absolute zero temperature of space. Lee would have to do more empirical studies to be certain, but he doubted the plasma would last more than ten or twelve kilometres after being fired.

The Ra Fighter was also clearly meant to be highly dependant on its mothership; which made sense from an alien impersonating a god, he'd want his troops to have little to no real initiative/independence in battle. Otherwise they would have to think for themselves, and that was dangerous for a fake god.

It was also designed to look intimidating when viewed from the bottom, like a spectre of death, or some bird of prey coming to swoop down on you. The US Air Force didn't do posturing or intimidation, they let their bombs and the results do that.

"I'm glad you think so, Doctor," Downing grinned. "The Commander in charge of Air Force operations on Abydos has shared a similar concern with me." He restrained laughing at the memory of George Hammond's reaction after giving the fighter a look over. "That being said, I formally welcome you both to this Command, and look forward to working with you." He reached into a drawer of his desk and produced two manila folders for both Lee and Carter. "There's everything in black and white, the protocols you have to follow before you are allowed to depart are all in there."

Lee didn't bother looking over the folder and merely tucked it under his arm and stood with Captain Carter, who saluted the General before both of them were dismissed.

* * *

The next morning Lee found his alarm waking him up at six in the morning. He had been issued guest quarters on Sub Level 13 for the night and his single large wheeled suitcase had been waiting for him the night before. Now he went about his morning ritual of shower, shave and the other necessities before dressing in casual clothes with a warm pullover; the base was somewhat cool to him, thanks to his Nevadan origins.

He almost forgot to pin his ID badge to his chest, it wouldn't do to get thrown in the Brig until that screw up was cleared.

He entered the Elevator again and went down to Sub Level 16. According to the brief he had read, this was where the Commissary was, in addition to VIP Meeting Rooms, and the Quartermaster's Office.

As far as breakfasts went, it wasn't the most memorable considering this Complex was now supposed to be the gateway to another world; scrambled eggs, toast with strawberry jam, and horrible coffee. He sincerely hoped that they shipped the good stuff to Abydos. With that done he headed to the first step to get 'Gate Clearance'.

Level 22 was his destination for a mandatory Medical checkup and blood screening. As much as Bill Lee had respect for the medical profession and what they did, he always got a nervous shiver when dealing with Med Doctors. Your very existence depended on what 'they' did or did not do. The Chief Medical Officer of Cheyenne Mountain was a small, yet clearly formidable Air Force Doctor by the name of Janet Frasier. Lee just happen to walk into the hospital area for his checkup to begin when he saw the diminutive Doctor scold a half-dressed Marine that stood almost half a meter over her.

She ordered him in no uncertain terms to get back into bed, not move, that he was still under observation for his condition (whatever that was). The Marine practically jumped back into bed when she just gave him a hard eyed stare and pointed at a medical tray loaded with all sorts of injections and needles.

Thankfully, the CMO had bigger fish to fry than Lee, and it was a much more reasonable and pretty Nurse Maxwell that attended to his physical, injected a few immunity medications, took blood samples and putting him through an MRI and XRays of damn near every part of his body.

"We need an Earth norm baseline to compare you to when you get back after six months," she explained. "We're in uncharted alien territory here, no telling what long term effects living on another planet will have on your physiology. We've already had to give all the Abydonians inoculations against our diseases, and are hard busy trying to catalogue their diseases to develop vaccines for theirs. In the meantime we have to make sure you're not coming down with anything we really don't want to see spread to the Abydonians."

Bill understood the necessity of that quite well. It would be a tragedy of epic proportions, not mention rather grim irony if Earth saved the Abydonians from slavery and oppression, only to kill them indirectly by bringing some Earth bug that they had no immunity against.

This took most of the morning, as quite a lot of military personnel and people who had formerly been working at Area 51 were being transferred to Abydos and there was a queue to use some of the medical equipment. He finally emerged from the Medical level feeling somewhat like a medical pincushion and he swore he could feel the lingering magnetic field around him, so long had he been in that dreaded MRI.

He next headed back to Level 16 to the Quartermaster to be issued what was deemed standard gear for all future Stargate Command personnel. He was fitted for a desert camouflage Battle Dress Uniform, and then given a large backpack that seemed like it weighed a ton.

"SGC facilities are still under construction," the tall, dark as night, Major Moses Stokes, Quartermaster of CMC, explained. "The base is one big construction site, and all scientific facilities are in prefab cylinder domes. Living quarters are all standard Army tents at the moment, so you're going to have to lug all the necessities of living with you."

Then came the bit he was feeling rather apprehensive about. He was issued with a Berretta M9 Pistol and four clips for it. One of the new protocols was that every civilian going to Abydos was going to get a trimmed down version of Military Basic Training; basic fitness, survival in a desert environment, Pistol Qualification training, and Basic Assault Rifle training. He understood the reasoning; the old explorers of the Western frontier; had not set off without rifles, ammo and the skill to use them after all.

Abydos, was a planet slightly smaller than Earth, but that didn't mean much…reports stated that all the Abydonians knew was Nagada City, the Stargate material mine…_We really have to get around to giving that element a proper name_… the Pyramid and an area of roughly a few weeks walking distance in every direction. That still left basically ninety nine percent of the planet completely unexplored, with no telling what or who could be in that unknown. Aerial surveys by microlight planes that had been shipped through the Stargate had revealed nothing but more desert for another hundred kilometres in every direction. It was hoped that Abydos would eventually yield much more appealing terrain soon.

* * *

It was a full week of waiting for his Gate Clearance to be formalized. It was straining the Medical Labs of CMC something fierce to medically catalogue every person that was scheduled to go through the Stargate. Bill was part of a group of thirty people that had been medically cleared and they were all gathered in the Stargate Room on Level Twenty Eight. Civilians dressed in various styles of light clothing suitable for a desert, whilst the military were in their desert BDUs, with the heavy backpacks and weapons slung over their shoulders.

Bill's own backpack was on the floor at his feet, and he grimaced at the thought of having to pick the damn thing up again.

"Hey, Dr Lee." Samantha Carter approached not looking the slightest bit encumbered at all, despite carrying nearly fifty pounds of gear.

"Hello, Captain…looking forward to see another planet?"

"Certainly," she grinned, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "I'm more excited to experience Gate travel though."

Their eyes automatically tracked to the larger than life form of the Stargate itself. Its dark grey near obsidian surfaces reflected the halogen lighting, giving it a real appropriate otherworldly feel. The twenty two foot diameter perfectly circular device was suspended in the orange-red Superconductive clamps made of Yttrium Barium Copper Oxide, whilst the Liquid Nitrogen to keep it at the required seventy seven Kelvin eerily spilled out as a gas from the four equidistant clamps.

'_All personnel stand by for Gate activation_.' The warning resounded through the crowded Gate room.

The Stargate abruptly thrummed into life. The Nine Chevrons glowing bright and then dimming again as the inner track of thirty nine coordinates glyphs began spinning counter-clockwise. The track halted, stopping the Taurus glyph under the uppermost chevron, it flexed and locked it in.

'_Chevron One encoded._'

The track began spinning again; the groaning of obsidian metal filled the room powerfully and reverberated through their lungs.

The Serpens Caput glyph was halted beneath the upper chevron, and was locked in.

'_Chevron Two encoded._' Bill felt his stomach churning as if something much more substantial than butterflies was doing laps down there.

Capricorn was next. '_Chevron Three encoded._'

Captain Carter helped Bill put his backpack on his shoulders again as the Monoceros glyph was locked in, and he only felt steady on his feet by the time Sagittarius glyph was accepted by the Cray supercomputer and alien Stargate, working in a somewhat awkward dance…but a dance nevertheless that delivered an acceptable performance.

Orion was locked in. '_Chevron Six encoded!_' Bill wasn't sure why the Stargate operator was shouting into his microphone. He supposed that being at the controls for a Device that warped space and time itself through a tunnel in the ether of the Universe must never get old.

Finally, the Point of Origin glyph that was unique to the Earth Stargate was halted under the upper chevron. Titanic energies visible as a water-like plasma appeared in the maw of the Stargate, surging outward as if it was angry that anyone dared manipulate it in such a manner. But the Gate tamed the angry beast with swiftness and the energy roared back and settled into a calm rippling pool.

'_Stand by, Abydos Group 023, for confirmation of clearance to proceed_.'

Radio signals were bounced back and forth constantly through the Stargate now. It wasn't yet known why, but only certain wavelengths in the EM spectrum could travel in both directions through a Stargate, everything from soft radio waves to microwaves could get through, but then it hit a barrier…visible light couldn't, neither could low frequency X-ray, but high frequency X-ray and Gamma could. It also served to keep the Stargate open despite the fact that 'matter' wasn't going through it. Captain Carter herself had theorized that the Gate had numerous built-in safeties and sensors light years in advance of anything Earth had to make it 'rather smart' on what to do when and how.

'_Clearance received. Arrival area has been cleared. You may proceed through the event horizon, 023.'_

Bill felt his legs carry him up the ramp as Captain Carter and he led the way for the rest of the group. She paused for a moment just before stepping through the event horizon and tapped the rippling pool, causing a slight disturbance. "My God. Look at this! I mean, the energy the 'gate must release to create a stable wormhole is…it's astronomical to use exactly the right word!"

Bill shared her fascination, but a pointed cough from behind them of a tall Marine Captain shook her from her 'geeking out' as his nephews would say. Carter sported a slight blush as she reflexively took a deep breath before stepping through with a wet slurp. He swallowed his apprehension and stepped through as well…

…_time ceased meaning…_

…_he thought he saw a blurry image of a twisting starfield…_

…_his mind struggled to comprehend the miasma of sensations he felt…_

The Universe abruptly righted itself and he felt himself trip on his own feet. Gravity was not impressed and Bill found his first view of Abydos being that of a hard compacted sand floor. He was abruptly hauled to his feet by two pairs of hands and was aware that he was suddenly freezing.

The sensation passed quickly and now he was feeling awfully hot and sticky. He was guided off to the side by his two helpers and left to recover, which after a few seconds of conscious effort he managed to rearrange his brain back into a logical order again. Feeling confident in his faculties he took in his surroundings.

The Abydos Stargate was situated now halfway between Nagada City and the Mines. This receiving area had been clearly worked on by earthworking teams, as it was perfectly flattened and around the size of a football field. Two rough gravel roads radiated off from it going east and west. It was also rather busy as well, with ATVs and four wheeler bikes buzzing to and fro on the roads and the arrival area.

"Brilliant, wasn't it?" Bill turned to regard Captain Carter walking up to him, looking like Christmas had just come early.

"Uh yeah," he was still trying to come to grips with what he had experienced. The last of the thirty new people assigned to Abydos came stumbling through the Gate, and was helped clear by sun drenched and sweat stained military personnel. It wasn't yet over, however. Now emerging from the gate was the first of a long train of FREDs or 'Field Remote Expeditionary Device', carrying all the needs of those Earthlings on Abydos that couldn't be obtained in some way on the planet itself. Most of the gear and supplies was related to the ongoing construction of the SGC, but a lot of it was simply your ordinary everyday things, like water, food, fuel and others. Bill had stolen a glance at the summary list in the Quatermaster's office…and it was truly epic.

The supply trains of consisted of twenty FREDs in each run, (which were all the FREDs that existed in the central United States) and they contained barely thirty percent of the items on that list. Bill was eminently thankful at that moment that he wasn't working in the Stargate Material Command. Finally, the last of the train was through and the Stargate lingered on for a few moments before the wormhole dissipated with a loud rushing sound that echoed through the area.

As Abydonians and SGC personnel began to unload the train, the Captain pointed to an area twenty five meters from the Gate at an off angle. Another Air Force sergeant in loose desert camouflage BDUs sat on a rickety chair under an umbrella providing shade and in front of him; was a mushroom shaped pedestal. He was also fiddling with a radio attached to a laptop.

"Is that…?"

"I think it is," Bill nodded.

They both hurried over. The Sergeant abruptly grabbed his laptop and snapped to his feet when he managed to see the rank on the lapels of the female officer approaching him and saluted.

"At ease, Sergeant…?" Carter returned the salute.

"Master Sergeant Walter Harriman, Chief Stargate Operator here on Abydos," he sighed wearily and sat down on his chair, and sipped a drink of water from a thermal flask.

"I'm Captain Samantha Carter, this is Dr Bill Lee, and we're both scientists on Project Eagle."

"Pleased to meet you," the Sergeant nodded and gestured to the pedestal. "The DHD doesn't feel as satisfying to work on as a supercomputer, but it's certainly easier."

"DHD?" Bill enquired politely.

"Dail Home Device," Harriman shrugged.

"Nice and simple, I like it."

The DHD stood at hip height off the ground, and contained thirty nine buttons for each glyph on the Stargate, arranged in a circular fashion around a large central crystal dome. Captain Carter walked around it, studying it from all angles. "Amazing. This is what was missing from the dig at Giza. This is how they controlled it! It took us fifteen years and three supercomputers to MacGyver a system on Earth."

"I assume it's just press the seven symbols and the gate activates?" Bill enquired.

"And then press down hard on the crystal dome," Harriman added.

'_Attention, all personnel of Abydos 023, report front and centre for orientation meeting._' The call echoed from a PA that was held by another Master Sergeant holding a clipboard, who began calling roll as soon as everyone had loosely assembled in front of him. When that was done, an Airman began handing out maps.

'_All right, listen up, firstly these maps will make sure you don't get lost, though it's very difficult to do so…as long as you stick to the roads you'll eventually either reach Nagada City, the Mine or the Pyramid. Secondly, it gets very hot here; yesterday it reached a hundred and two degrees, so stay hydrated. We've already had numerous cases of dehydration in the Infirmary Unit and we've even had to send some of them back to Earth for recovery. Thirdly, the day here is thirty six hours long, so expect to feel significant…Gate lag, in your first few weeks here._

'_Fourth, you'll notice on your map marked locations for your assigned duty stations, whether it be, mining, R&D, construction and engineering, farming, and finally teaching in Nagada City. You'll also note the central barracks area for the SGC where you'll be sleeping. There is to be no personnel permanently living in Nagada city…until we're sure that the medical situation with regards to diseases has been cleared up._

'_Finally, you can see at the end of the Arrival Area are four by four all terrain vehicles. They all have assigned drivers who will take you anywhere you need to go at any time. However, keep it within reason, we're operating on the end of the longest and thinnest supply line in human history…don't waste anything.'_

'_Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, now you are ready to proceed…and welcome to Abydos.'_


	4. Chapter 4: The Galaxy Opens

_**Chapter Four: The Galaxy Opens**_

**20****th**** June, 1996**

**Gateway Centre**

**Abydos**

General Wayne Downing emerged from the rippling pool of the Abydonian Stargate to regard the lowest floor of the SGC Gateway Centre. It never failed to take his breath away and renewed the sense of pride he had in all the people under his command. He was thirty floors below the desert surface of Abydos, and was staring at a vast, brightly lit, eight meter high area that reminded him somewhat of a massive warehouse with over two football fields equivalent of surface area. The steel ribbing of the roof was clearly visible and occasionally a thick concrete pillar would rise up to help support the incredible weight bearing down on this lowest level.

This was the only the second time that the Stargate had been activated in its new home, and as such there was at moment very little cargo or vehicles slated for transfer between Earth and Abydos, though that was quickly changing before his very eyes. The whine of the five mass cargo elevators in operation and cargo handlers moving the large storage crates with various raw ores of titanium, were bustling about the entire cavernous area.

"General, welcome back." George Hammond was there, standing well outside the demarcated plasma blast area in front of the Stargate, with a small detachment of Airmen who immediately came to attention and saluted. Standing next to George, was the reason for Downing's rather unexpected presence in the first place.

"General, Dr Jackson," Downing returned the salute and nodded to the LRI Chief of Archaeology.

"General," Jackson returned with a respectful tone. "I'm sorry to call you on such short notice, but this really…"

Downing raised a hand to interrupt. "Relax, Dr Jackson, your emergency summons saved me from a meeting with the SGC bean counters."

"Ah, I see," Daniel answered with empathy.

"Well, let's get down to it and you can show me this 'discovery of galactic proportions'."

* * *

After the long walk across sub-level thirty. They used the personnel elevator that linked all the levels of Gateway Center; by itself it was almost as large as a room and could carry sixty people safely at a time, throughout all the levels of the Center. Downing would've loved to see level twenty eight, the dedicated level for personnel transfer between Earth and Abydos, but it was still unfinished. He honestly wished he could somehow give the engineer who had through up the idea of moving the Stargate between levels on a narrow elevator as needed, the Nobel Prize for Uncommon Logic.

The two thousand feet per minute elevator had them up to Level One in less than twenty seconds. The doors opened up to reveal the astounding sight of the main lobby of Gateway Center. The light brown marble floor was so well polished that it partially reflected the overhead lighting and the view of the upper eight above ground floors, finally culminating in an arched overhead glass ceiling that let in the afternoon sun in grand fashion. Green plants at each structural pillar and even a fountain in the center of the area rounded off the impressive scene.

Downing dearly wished he could spend more time here on Abydos, but his position demanded that he needed to be back on Earth more at the moment, fighting the good fight in the political shark nest that was the Pentagon and White House, as it were, to meet the needs of his command. He also dreaded the day that the Senate Armed Services Committee (SASC) would also be brought up to speed on the existence of his Command. It was one thing to fight your fellow soldiers for a piece of the defense budget pie; it was a totally different story when politicians on the Hill would get involved. The only reason they had stayed off the 'spending radar' was that the SGC Material Command was doing a fantastic job of bringing in as much money as much as it gave out; thanks to sales of the resources mined on Abydos and the patents on quite a few metallurgical and chemical advances made by R&D Complex or as it was otherwise known, the 'relocated' Area 51. It also helped that the White House had funneled the defense budget that had originally gone to the old Groom Lake facility, back through the other armed service branches, where it was 'funneled' again through a maze of channels, until it finally reached the SGC itself.

He really did not relish the day he would have to stand before the elderly Senator Strom Thurmond, the Chairman of said committee and reveal that there was an entire Unified Combatant Command that had been kept secret from them. Ideally, it would never happen, but Downing knew that the accountants employed by SASC were a downright meticulous bunch of bastards, and they would eventually get whiff of something that had escaped the Material Command's notice and come digging. It was a matter of when, not if, the SASC would find out.

The three men emerged from the air-conditioned Gateway Center and onto the tarmac parking lot, where a converted civilian model Jeep Wrangler waited for them. They got in and the driver speed them off at high speed along the road, heading towards the large Pyramid in the distance.

As the Jeep made its way along Downing became uncomfortably aware of how hot it was. Leaving the Gateway Center felt like driving out into a blast furnace as the Abydonian sun beat unforgivably down on the desert. Sweat broke out on his brow almost immediately and he immediately felt his shirt stick to his back like it would if he had just run a marathon. _Hearing how warm it is here and experiencing it first hand is something completely different,_ he thought running a hand across his brow and noting the fabric of his uniform sleeve darkened with the sweat, _wish I could have worn more appropriate clothing._

The Jeep halted right by an entrance to a tunnel that led into the Pyramid from the west side. It had been completely covered by the shifting sands of Abydos but was now exposed thanks to the meticulous efforts of the Abydonians and the team of LRI archaeologists. There was only a minimal crew left working on the entrance way of the tunnel, meticulously brushing away the accumulated dirt from the front edifices on either side of the entrance.

Dr Jackson led the way into this tunnel, handing both Generals electric lamps before proceeding down into it. Downing found it entirely eerie walking in a place that had never seen any light or a human for untold millennia. He kept on getting that feeling that can best be described as 'someone was using your back as a xylophone'. There was absolute silence between the three men as they walked onward until his ears were positively ringing.

Mercifully, sound reached them, voices of people talking with excitement. Dr Jackson ducked into an opening that had been carefully cut open through a stone door. Hammond preceded Downing inside and he could hear the gasp that had come from his subordinate. It had to be something spectacular to make a man as disciplined as George Hammond lose control. When Downing himself was inside and his eyes adjusted to the higher light level of the portable flood lights, he couldn't stop the gasp of astonishment that escaped his own lips either.

A vast chamber, easily twenty five meters in length, and over five high, with curving walls lined in gold. The yellow glow of the precious metal was unmistakable and Downing would bet anything that if Hernan Cortés was still alive he would give his right nut to be in a room like this. But that was not all; the golden walls were alive with countless lines of hieroglyphics that had been carved in relief style out of the walls.

"Captain Carter?"

George's voice brought Downing out his amazed funk and now he also noticed that the Air Force Captain was here. Her now perpetually tanned features from over a year of living under the Abydonian sun were clearly visible under the floodlights. She was busy slowly panning a digital camera on a tripod that was in turn connected to a laptop and apparently recording the glyphs on the walls.

She straightened at the call and seeing who had entered the room, was at attention instantly.

"At ease, Captain." Downing waved her down.

"Greetings General," her eyes were positively brimming with restrained excitement. "Sirs, this is just amazing…"

"I'm not totally up to speed yet, Captain." He interrupted her and gestured to the room. "Dr Jackson, while finding gold would ordinarily be very important, I gather it's what on it is even more so?"

"Most assuredly, General," Dr Jackson nodded, putting on his glasses. "This is a sort of a chart, more of a…map."

"Of what?"

"Well, the cartouches seem to be separated clearly into groupings. Each grouping is attached to the others with a series of lines. And each grouping of glyphs contain seven symbols. So you can see where this is going, of course."

"Seven symbols? Stargate addresses?" Downing frowned in confusion and glanced at the walls again, clearly seeing now the groupings of seven.

"Exactly," Dr Jackson raised a pointed finger to the ceiling. "All of the symbols are on the Stargate in the Abydos chamber. And Captain Carter has already managed to chart some of them based on astronomical images taken of the Abydos night sky. General, I believe that this is a map of a vast network of Stargates—Stargates that are…are all over the galaxy."

George shook his head. "But scientists on Earth have since tried hundreds of symbol permutations using Earth as the point of origin, whenever the Gate is unused and it never worked."

"I'm clearly not as versed in astrophysics as Captain Carter here, so…" Dr Jackson gestured for her to continue.

"Sirs, according to the expanding universe model, all bodies in the universe are constantly moving further apart. Now since this Stargate map was inscribed onto the walls, in the thousands of years since the Stargate was built…"

"All the coordinates have changed," Downing nodded. "But why does it still work between Abydos and Earth?"

"Sir, Abydos is as far as we know the closest planet in the network to Earth. I mean the closer they are, the less the difference in relative position due to expansion—the further away, the greater the difference. In a few thousand more years, it won't work between Earth and Abydos either."

"Unless we can adjust for the displacement," Dr Jackson pointed out.

"General, with this map as a base, that should be easy. All we have to do is correct for Doppler's Shift. Then I should be able to arrive at a computer model that can predict the adjustments necessary to get the 'gate to connect to all these locations in the Galaxy. Any civilization advanced enough to build this 'gate network would be able to compensate for 50,000 years of stellar drift."

An extremely troubling thought just occurred in Downing's mind. "This was Ra's map."

"Uh…yes," Dr Jackson confirmed, clearly not sure why General's mood had taken a dive.

"If Ra built this network his capital class spaceship was clearly capable of some form of Faster than Light travel, he now also had access to not just Earth and Abydos, but a Galaxy full of potential worlds…"

Dr Jackson also lost his excited mood as well and his eyes sparked in comprehension. "Oh my God."

"What is it, Doctor?" Hammond asked.

"I've just realized something. It was going to be in my next archaeological findings report…" He began to pace back and forth. "We found catacombs beneath the Pyramid, essentially a maze. Navigating it took some time and we had to dig considerably to get through to all parts of it, but it eventually led to a large room that contained a hieroglyphic story of sorts. It talked of the size of Ra's domain, how great he was…and how he triumphed over his enemies."

"Enemies?" Downing didn't like where this was going.

"It talks about how he defeated other gods, and dominated over them as Supreme Ruler."

"Are you sure about that, 'domination'?"

"Yes, that's the closest translation."

"To be dominated over you have to be alive, and if I remember your report correctly Dr Jackson, you stated that Ra's race was dying and he survived by taking over the body of a human host, an Egyptian boy."

"And who's to say more of his kind couldn't have done the same thing as well," Captain Carter concluded.

"Dr Jackson, I want a full report and assessment from the LRI on this," Downing ordered in a grim tone. "Captain Carter, I want you and whoever can be spared at R&D to begin working on this Stargate map. I want all the facts we can possibly gather on my desk as soon as humanly possible."

* * *

Since its first day of construction the SGC had never been such a flurry of activity. Mass shipments of supplies were pouring through the Stargate and out of the Gateway Center in an almost unending wave. At the heart of the wave was the newly completed High-speed MagRail transport. The state of the art freight transport ran from beneath Gateway Center, up through a secure tunnel system, and out to the industrial heart of the SGC commonly called "The Forge". The crews who had labored tirelessly to complete the project got to enjoy its 5 minute christening before it, and they, were been thrust into immediate and non-stop service.

Most of the rank-and-file personnel of the SGC didn't know what was going on precisely, but everyone knew that whatever it was had to be big. In the week since General Downing's visit the entire base had been working overtime no matter what area they were in. Massive shipments of raw materials were flying along the magrail toward The Forge to allow them to crank up production lines that were barely complete. However, of all the segments of the SGC it was LRI who had jaws dropping.

Normally, the profession of Archeology is a meticulous and fairly slow moving one. Yet, since General Downing's departure LRI had conscripted anyone unfortunate enough to not look immensely busy and put them to work. The first ever "speed excavation" was put into action under the slightly crazed oversight of Dr. Jackson. Where before the progress of excavating the Pyramid and connected ruins had been impressive it was now mind blowing. Jackson and LRI had commandeered an entire room's worth of computers and digital cameras to facilitate translation efforts as rapidly as new hieroglyphs could be uncovered.

As if that wasn't enough, the LRI had also been asked to form a task team that would brainstorm and develop methods and protocols of 'First Contact'. A single conference room had been given to the assembled group of fifteen people; scientists, engineers, an Air Force Major, Marine Captain, Army Colonel, and a retired Ambassador from the State Department …were all sealed into the room and essentially told that until they had a solid protocol that could get a Presidential seal of approval, every other duty they had was on hold. What they produced after a week of passionate debate and sometimes even outright hostile arguments was by no means perfect, and would be sent back for revision as the hard lessons in the wider Galaxy was learned.

Another part of the SGC that was experiencing an absolute frenetic increase in operations was the R&D Complex. Its massive Cray Supercomputer, encompassing an entire floor of the Complex main building, suddenly found itself ramped up to full bore operations at its maximum capacity of five hundred teraflops for the first time since it was fully re-assembled and upgraded after being moved from Earth. It had up until that point only been used for the research into the physics and materials behind the Ra fighters, but now it was being used to turn the out-of-date Abydos Stargate network map into a usable one.

Scientists and engineers working on the X-023 Aerospace Fighter, Earth's answer to the Ra Fighter, were also given a figurative 'boot up the ass' by the brass. They wanted a working test fighter. An exasperated Dr Lee had retorted that the X23 was no Grumman Hellcat that could be tweaked within a year to beat the Japanese Zero. In many cases they were still trying to come to grips with the sciences that made the Ra Fighter tick; the least of which was they now had empirical lab results that with a few exceptions, threw out everything ever theorized on Quantum physics. Area 51 scientists had already compiled everything together and were starting to call these scientific principles _Neophysics_. He stated that at current development rate it would be at least another two years before even the X23 could even be considered safe enough for a test flight, then another year for ironing out the bugs that the performance data revealed.

Gateway Center itself was also experiencing a refurbishment due to the new reality that the Abydos Cartouche revealed. Level Twenty Eight was finished off and now Level Twenty Seven was also designated as a Stargate arrivals/departures area, only this level was completely dedicated to diplomacy, and as such was design for form over function. It used whites, silvers and natural plant life to provide a calm mediating atmosphere, it was also the most structurally advanced piece of architecture humanity had ever produced – making use of the new extreme alloys that resulted from mixing the Stargate element with traditionally known metals, such as titanium, iron and steel. The element was also finally named after a majority consensus was reached; Gravicite. With the revelation of all the Stargates out in the Galaxy, the prudent measure was also taken to create static defenses and inside Gateway Center, as the potential was there for 'anyone or anything in the great unknown' to possibly connect to the Earth and Abydonian Stargates.

Level 30, being the largest and dedicated to utility and military needs, received the most defenses. Remote controlled turrets mounting the Bofors Forty Millimeter Autocannon, with integrated Mk19 Auto Grenade Guns, were strategically placed for fields of fire bearing on the Stargate. Mounted in the roof girders and looking down on the entire level were also remote turrets holding M249 Machine guns. Level 28 received a similar treatment, but more care was taken in the defense turret placement and it had much less of them. The Diplomatic Level was also given a defensive makeover, but these were completely concealed and merged seamlessly with the peaceful atmosphere of the first line of defense on the Stargate would not be the firepower of these weapons, however. The moment any unauthorized incoming wormhole stabilized within the Gate, its narrow elevator would literally fall and be accelerated into a slot that fit it perfectly below Level 30.

Anyone or anything coming through would only have slightly less than a millimetre of space to materialize, the rest of their body would come through and try to occupy that same space, by pushing it out of the way in the only direction it could go – sideways. The result in an experiment with a single pig carcass, was in the words of Master Sergeant Harriman; 'mushy meaty goop'. The second system of passive Stargate defence and would most likely replace the 'Goop' defense was an Iris made of gravicite-titanium alloy and would be installed within the maw of the gate, to open and close, like a camera eye. It would first be installed on the Earth Gate and if everything worked out, Abydos would receive it as well.

All of this work was building up to one significant event; the opening of a wormhole into the unknown of the greater Galaxy and possibly sending a team to whatever was on the other side of the new Stargate. In the two months that all these simultaneous preparations were taking place, a total of six new Stargate addresses had been calculated and it was finally time to try a connection.

* * *

A thin streamer of smoke rose into the cooling night air. The young sergeant gazed up at the alien night sky and shook his head before taking another drag off the dwindling cigarette. He'd been on Abydos for nearly six months and it was still disorienting to star up at the foreign stars above.

Despite the strangeness of the night sky he found that this was a dream assignment. Everyone serving on Abydos was genuinely excited to be there and it showed in the attitudes.

While tempers did flare from time to time the vast majority of personnel at Stargate Command got along without problems. The civilians and military contingents actually worked together well for the most part. Shaking his head in amusement the sergeant mused that next to the strange stars above it was the cooperation between the two groups that was the most alien. The young man figured it was a testament to the importance of the work being done.

Taking a final drag from the Marlboro the sergeant dropped the smoldering butt into the cigarette receptacle. It was time to get back inside.

* * *

The Gateway Center would one day be called one of the most organized operations in military history. That day, however, would be far in the future when the combined armed forces of the United States weren't trying to cram several hundred thousand tons of materials through the Stargate from Earth to Abydos and out of the Center at break-neck speeds. It was a miracle that the Material Command personnel were managing the feat as well as they were.

When the young sergeant returned to his post at the security desk in the Center's foyer it was to the grateful look of his partner. "All you VanDise."

"Thank god man. They've," he replied while tossing a none-too-subtle glance at a group standing a few feet from the security desk, "haven't stopped arguing since you left."

Glancing to the group of assorted civilians the sergeant couldn't help but wonder what they could possibly still be working out. Shrugging it off he replied with a simple, "We'll you're good to go now. Just be back in fifteen."

Changing places with his fellow NCO he gave a quick look over the security monitors while inputting his security code to the keypad on the station. With a blink of a green light his code was accepted and on one of the screens the name beside "Foyer" flashed from VanDise to Landen.

The proper procedures taken care of he once again turned his attention to the arguers.

"Anything I can help you with," he inquired with a tone that broke right through the veil of the heated discussion.

Instantly the argument stopped and the group collectively adopted a somewhat guilty countenance. That was when he knew they weren't arguing over anything important. With a sigh he simply leveled an unamused glare at them and waited.

"We're sorry Sergeant," one of the men finally responded. "We're just trying to work out the best way to get the shipment we're waiting for moved up on the delivery list.

"And this has to be argued in the middle of the night in the middle of the Center's entry?"

Assorted hmm-ing and haw-ing followed the question and Sergeant Landen's expression remained impassively unimpressed. In short order the men exited the building followed only by a sigh and shaking head from the sergeant.

Ten minutes into his partner's fifteen-minute break the security desk phone began to beep. The LCD screen on the phone came to life and proclaimed the call to be coming from Gateroom Security. Tapping the speaker button the sergeant quickly answered, "Foyer, this is Landen."

"Sergeant Landen, this is Hayth. Head's up Sergeant; bunch of brass just gated through from Earth. They're on their way up."

"Got it. Thanks for the warning, but how many?"

"Fifteen. Repeat, one-five."

"Alright. Thanks Hayth."

Tapping the button on the phone once he disconnected the call before hitting the button again followed by a speed-dial option.

"Motorpool; Kinter," echoed the disembodied voice of the Staff Sergeant on duty.

"Kinter, it's Landen. We've got brass from Earth. Safe bet they're heading somewhere in a hurry. We've got fifteen, one-five, or them."

"Right; I'll have a few jeeps around ASAP."

The line went dead just as the secure elevator's doors began to open. Fifteen assorted officers in class A uniforms and civilians in suits filed out and the sergeant snapped to attention.

"At ease Sergeant," ordered a Lieutenant General. "Please call for transport for our group out to Area 51."

"Already taken care of sir. It should be just a moment."

"Excellent, thank you Sergeant."

Five minutes later a small convoy of jeeps pulled up outside and the group exited the building. Sergeant VanDise returned just in time to watch the group leave and gave Landen a questioning look.

Shrugging the sergeant replied with a simple, "No clue."

It was just another night at Gateway Center.

**

* * *

29th August 1996**

**Control Room**

**Gateway Centre**

**Abydos**

Lt General George Hammond surveyed the room with both bemusement and a sense of awe. The designers of the Control Room had done good work with replicating the layout of NASA Mission Control in Houston. In fact, if George didn't know better, he could easily fool himself into thinking he was back on Earth, in that very same historic room where mankind had first taken its baby steps into space. Well, they had certainly come a long way since then, and it was now time to stand up and take those bold new steps into the unknown frontier.

He surveyed the Control Room to check that everyone was at their posts and ready. There were four rows of workstations in front of his own raised COPSO (Combat Operations Officer) station, divided into three lines. In front of him and to his left, was SURGEON, a station which was empty as this mission would not involve sending anyone through the Stargate as yet. Directly in front of him was SOPO (Stargate Ops Officer) Station, with Master Sergeant Harriman in a nice comfortable office chair with the DHD in front him, and his beautifully laminated wooden desk artfully cut to fit around it, allowing him to also easily access his computer.

To George's right, and finishing the fourth row, was LINGO. As it's name suggested, it was there to effect communication with whoever or whatever was on the other side of the wormhole, since even if (as mounting archeological evidence was indicating) the civilization they met was displaced humans from Earth, there was no way on God's green earth..._or should that be God's Creation?_...that they would be speaking modern English. LINGO therefore was an LRI responsibility and had Dr Jackson heading it up and a staff of five archeologists who also had considerable Linguistic training under their belts, sitting in front of computers with earphones over their heads and getting their respective linguistic databases ready as well as again going over the 'Communication Plan'.

The third row began with COMO, a Station that held all the controls for the radio communications equipment that was directed through the Stargate, this had an specialist Air Force Officer, Captain Lidia Heath, in charge who had experience in handling radio comms in AWACS craft during the Gulf War. She and the two NCOs on either side would always be working closely with LINGO on missions like this. To the left was ROBO or Robotics Control Officer. This station and its computers was geared to controlling all unmanned vehicles that went through the Stargate.

To George that Station looked like a stripped down disassembled cockpit of an F16 and integrated into an ergonomic desk; it had joysticks, control panels, multi-function computer displays, integrated notepads...heck the only thing missing was a damn HUD. It was all to control one of the new prototype MALCs, as well as any other unmanned vehicle airborne or on the ground that would be developed in the future. In any event, the MALC had been designed by MIT engineers who had been told that the Air Force wanted a probe to deploy via parachute drop into hazardous areas (radioactive, chemical or biological fallout areas) analyse the air, soil, and any plant life, and send back data to NEST response teams. They also wanted the probe to be able to act as a relay to communicate with any survivors that it encountered. The result was the Mobile Analytical Laboratory Communication Probe.

Neighboring that and finishing the third row, was ELSO (Environmental Life Support Officer), which was again an LRI department who analyzed the data from a MALC and determined if it was safe for a human SG Team to go through to the target planet.

The last department, and the only one in the second row as yet, was EDIO. Essentially responsible for electronic data integrity of the Control Room. There was no telling what sort of electronic warfare capabilities a human or alien civilization would have, and how they could project that influence through the wormhole. George was somewhat skeptical that it was even possible, but his knowledge and grasp of computers was shaky at best, limited to using Word processors and the simply designed command systems that were in front of him at his own station. But when the computer experts told him _'If we can think of firing computer viruses down a wormhole on a radio carrier signal to any system we detect capable of receiving it on a machine language level, then aliens or other human civs sure as hell can.'_

The rest of Row two was empty, as was Row one, they were essentially for any new department that was integrated into the Control Room as a necessity was demonstrated for them. The only one currently on the drawing boards, pending working out the guidance software issues, was the WSO or wizzo. The officer here would be in charge of managing and firing the Tomahawk Cruise Missile through the Stargate at any potential target.

Finally, finishing off the room, was the three large projection screens facing everyone, which showed real-time feeds from cameras all over Gateway Centre and even beyond. Currently the left screen was focused on the Stargate on Level 30, and showed the crew working on preparing the six wheeled MALC for its first ever journey. The central screen showed a live feed from the MALCs camera, currently facing directly forward and showing the Stargate maw from a much closer angle and the right screen mirrored Sergeant Harriman's Gate Diagnostic screen.

George thumbed the slim earpiece and single microphone that plugged into his station and turned on his com system that would allow communication with all the stations. "All right, Ladies and Gentlemen, it's oh eight hundred local time, we've practiced this for weeks, in the immortal words of John Glenn, 'Dear Lord, let's not fuck this up.'"

A smattering of laughter emerged from everyone in the room breaking the tension in the air. George looked behind him to the observation gallery where the collective SGC Command Brass was sitting and observing. Most of the faces there were smiles, though he had quite a few jealous looks thrown at him. The decision for First Contact to be his responsibility, had come straight from the President. George would've felt honored if he wasn't worried about throwing up his breakfast all over his console; only decades of experience kept it in check.

"Okay, tech team, are we go?"

_"We're good to go down here, General,"_ one the technicians on the wall screen, standing next to the MALC raised a hand in acknowledgment.

"All right, Sergeant Harriman, by all means."

"Yes, sir." Harriman replied and after giving one last look to the Stargate address on his computer screen, tapped it into the DHD fluidly. On the wall screen the Stargate flashed into life, and chevrons lit up as the Sergeant pressed each glyph tile on the device. "Seventh Chevron inputted, engaging." He pushed down on the crystal orb. The entire room seemed to hold its breath and...

...surely enough a stable wormhole was formed.

George reminded himself as the jubilant cheers and clapping erupted, to put in a commendation for Captain Carter, it was mostly her computer model that had allowed this to happen, after all.

"Tech team, confirm destination is valid for travel." This next bit was to ensure that matter could successfully reintegrate on the other side, and that there wasn't a passive defense like an Iris. On the wallscreen a technician threw a baseball sized radio transmitter through the event horizon.

"General, I have signal," Captain Heath confirmed.

"Captain Carter," he addressed the officer in charge of ROBO for this mission. "Send the MALC."

"Yes sir," she replied with barely repressed excitement. She settled her hands on the main control joystick, tapped a few activation buttons, and slowly pushed forward. The view on the central main screen, abruptly jerked as the MALC stuttered forward. The activated Stargate grew bigger and bigger, until the swirling energies filled the screen and then...static...

"_MALC has crossed the event horizon_," confirmed the Tech team.

Just as quickly, signal returned. "Receiving MALC telemetry."

The first thing George saw of the alien world was that it was on a small plateau, it was daylight, and there was a mountain range in the distance, with a sky choked white with cloud cover over it. There was even greenery around the the plateau, very little, but it was there. But his eyes also saw two things which most definitely had not been put there by mother nature. There were two smooth metallic shiny pillars at the edges of the plateau, not ten meters from the MALC; they were about four meters high and had three purplish sections...which were glowing.

Abruptly purple light or energy seemed to shoot itself towards the MALC, causing the picture to be distorted for a moment, but the purple light abruptly ceased.

"What was that?"

"Unknown, sir. Whatever it was caused brief EM interference, but all my systems shows green now though," replied Carter.

"Not a weapon then, thankfully," mused George. "Visual sweep."

The MALC's camera began to tilt slowly, moving to the left, revealing more terrain, and the fact that the Stargate was actually situated on the edge of a mountain. The view swept past the active gate and found...trees, honest to God, green trees.

"My God," exclaimed one of the scientists at ELSO. "I'm reading an atmospheric composition; sixty eight percent nitrogen, twenty five percent oxygen. Ouch, five percent carbon dioxide, two percent miscellaneous, fourteen PSI of pressure...that's close to Earth norm...the CO2 level is not good though."

George considered that. "Will any team we send need adjustments to their filter masks?"

"The HEPA masks are rated for viral and biologic filtration, General, that higher C02 level will reduce their effective lifespan," explained the scientist. "The team should merely be issued with double the normal amount of filters."

"Captain Carter,any theories on what those pillars are for?"

"Given the placement of the Stargate, in an isolated area, and the lack of anyone in the immediate area, it could perhaps be a remote monitoring system to see and analyze what comes through the 'Gate."

"Could it function as a weapon as well?"

"Almost certainly, General. It's dimensions could easily hold any of our own weapon systems. By the look of those pillars and the energy beam it shot out, I think it's safe to assume that there's something much more advanced at work here."

"And that the civilization on the other side is more advanced than us," George pointed out.

"At least with regard to directed energy systems." Captain Carter nodded.

George nearly felt himself jump out of his chair as he spotted a moving shadow on the big projection screen.

"We have movement!" shouted one of the linguists whose eyes had never left the panning view of the alien world. An excited din broke out in the room.

"Pan the camera to the right," George ordered, his voice booming and silencing the excitement. The MALC's 'eyes' turned at the behest of its distant masters. It found the source of the moving shadow and brought it into focus.

George could barely even find the words in his head to describe what he felt at that moment. Dr Jackson's archeological evidence and theories had been just that…theories. Credible ones, but vague, distant things…now there it was, in living color. On the screen was a rather astounded and curious, male human being, dressed in decidedly oddly cut silver clothing, holding a device in his right hand. George knew instantly it was a hand weapon of sorts – the tall man's body language and the way he was holding it told the story.

General George Hammond looked around at the people in the control room, feeling the weight of the Earth on his shoulders. "All right people, let's see if we can say 'Hello'"


	5. Chapter 5: The End of a World

**Stargate Reopened**

Chapter Five: The End of a World

Daniel Jackson was having the time of his life.

Ever since Cartherine Langford had introduced herself to him on that rainy night after presenting his ill-fated yet entirely correct theory on the true nature and origin of the Pyramids of Giza, he felt he had been transported directly into his dream life. He had a beautiful wife, legally married on both Earth and Abydos. He was the Archeology Department Head for a major research institute, working on a virtually pristine Pyramid complex with unlimited access to it on _another planet in the Galaxy_. There was no closed minded Egyptologists in sight, no Egyptian government bureaucracy, no mountains of red tape to wade through.

He could now truly attest to the fact that if your job was something you loved doing; you didn't work a day in your life.

Now he was feasting on the challenge that was laid out in front of his team; trying to communicate through a wormhole with a man who thought in a completely different language, a language that was seemingly evolved from ancient Mayan, if he wasn't mistaken.

But they couldn't shoot from the hip with this.

The first thing they did was to begin with the widely acknowledged universal languages, speaking with the body (at least with humans) and mathematics. Daniel had stood in front of a camera at the LINGO station, which would capture his image and send it to an integrated touch screen on the MALC. With this they had determined the name of the man on the other side of the wormhole; Taro.

They moved on to math, and it was the efforts of the remaining time of the wormhole to get their comparative number systems understood. Taro did this with a small stylus pen that came with the touch screen, and he seemed very bemused by it. Daniel also came to the conclusion that Taro was extremely smart; he had no problem whatsoever with any of the math they threw at him. He understood Pie, Infinity, and even had no problem with the more esoteric concepts, such as Phi, the Golden Rule or Fibonacci Ratio. Taro didn't refer to the concepts as that of course.

They re-dailed the wormhole and moved on to concepts of science.

With Captain Carter now also at LINGO, they started with the basic elements; displaying the molecular diagram of Hydrogen to Taro, and flashing the letter H underneath it. He smiled and nodded.

"At least we have that body language gesture in common," Daniel commented.

They systematically worked up the periodic table, Helium, Lithium, and so on. Taro wrote his people's equivalent symbols for each element, and the LINGO team saved each for later analysis, compilation and interpretation.

The difficult part came when they moved on to language.

Here they started to display Mayan characters for Taro, whilst Daniel would pronounce them. Taro was clearly surprised at seeing these characters and recognized some of them, but now for the first time they started to see frustration and confusion on his face. Here they ran head first into the language barrier. Taro shook his head, he clearly had no idea. He began to write back in a written language that was clearly a Linear alphabet that represented sounds, and not the logosyllabic of Mayan. Daniel found himself feeling equally frustrated. His decipherment of the spoken Abydonian language was in retrospect a lucky coincidence; it was now clear that Ra had kept the spoken Abydonian tongue in stasis, allowing Sha're to look at hieroglyphs and pronounce their corresponding phonetic sounds.

"It's not gonna work," declared one of the Linguists. "This guy might be smart, but what we're trying to do here is the equivalent of grabbing an educated English speaker off the street, and then showing them Anglo-Frisian or Old Saxon dialect and expecting them to understand. We need one of their language academics to bridge the gap."

Daniel nodded and stepped in front of the camera again, falling back to body language. He grabbed a thick book on ancient Maya and opened it, showing off its contents briefly. He patted it with his hand and then he pointed to his head. He pointed to the camera, indicating Taro, shook his head, then pointed off to the side, hopefully indicating someone else.

Taro frowned for a moment in thought. Daniel repeated the motions, even grabbing a piece of paper and drawing on it…

He had barely finished when Taro showed his palms in warding gesture.

"Stop," Daniel muttered, nodding to the camera. Taro turned away from the MALC and produced a device from his pocket. It lit up and he began to speak rapidly in the unfamiliar tongue.

"Hopefully, he's bringing some help now."

"Wonder how long that is going to take?" Captain Carter mused. "The Gate is in a pretty remote location."

"And it's not as if they can just pull their equivalent of an Ancient Languages Professor or expert out of a learning institution on such short notice," Daniel pointed out. "He knows our number system, perhaps we can try to teach him our timekeeping method and ask…"

"If you think it would help, Dr Jackson, by all means," General Hammond instructed.

Daniel stood in front of the camera again, and pulled off his wristwatch. It was a Casio digital model that he swore by for its ruggedness, even in the rough and basic conditions of a dig site. He brought it very close to the camera, so Taro could even see the small second counter next to the larger minutes and hour.

It didn't take long. Taro again smiled with bemusement and held up the same small radio device he had used to call his superiors. He frowned briefly at it and abruptly, light seemed to blossom from it and congealed into seven foreign numbers that hovered over the device. The LINGO team knew Taro's number system well enough to deduce what it said.

"A proper holographic projection," Captain Carter declared eyes lit up with excitement.

"It seems they have a shorter day than Earth, the equivalent of twenty two hours." Daniel declared after doing a bit of mental math.

More than ten minutes of body language and hasty drawings, and they could finally declare that Taro understood their question. He modified his holographic clock somehow to show the equivalent of two Earth hours until help arrived from his people.

General Hammond had waited patiently for the moment. "Explain that we will redial at that time."

Daniel thought about it for a moment. He went over to his computer and sent a video file to the MALC showing a Stargate's activation. "Can we send a countdown timer program for the MALC screen to display?"

"No problem, can I have a seat?" Captain Carter took a seat and it was barely five minutes of programming, and the MALC display had a timer running on it. Taro nodded and bowed his head slightly to the camera. Daniel hurried back into view and copied the gesture.

"Cut signal," Hammond ordered. The Stargate immediately sensed that nothing was going through anymore and its semi-AI programming automatically severed the wormhole connection.

* * *

Daniel emerged from the event horizon of the Stargate on the world its inhabitants called Tollan. He fiddled with the HEPA mask and small goggles that protected his eyes as an avenue for any airborne bacteria or viruses to enter his body. He had been forced to don contact lenses for the first time since his graduation from High School. The disposable lenses were a pain to wear at dusty dig sites and in rural areas where access to a pharmacy for more cleaning fluid was never certain. Daniel had given up and stuck with good old fashioned glasses. They and the goggles didn't go together obviously, and he didn't want to go through the expense and trouble of having a special set of goggles made that would correct his short-sightedness.

He was dressed formally for the occasion as were the four others on this Contact expedition. A Beige suit complemented with a dark blue tie, and matching trousers with light brown shoes that looked quite formal from a distance, but were actually comfortable Cross-trainers with gripping soles. Next to him, representing both the military and filling the role of astrophysicist on the Contact team, was Captain Carter in her formal Class A uniform.

Colonel Doctor Aaron MacKenzie, however, whilst also being a member of the military was the chief psychiatrist of the SGC, and had been vetted for the Contact expedition to evaluate the Tollan mindset.

Dr John Harper, was the Team Biologist, and judging by the how the middle-aged man was excitedly looking at the various plants within view of the Stargate, would definitely be in his element here on Tollan. He was also eyeing their Tollan hosts with an evaluating stare, no doubt wondering how much genetic drift and mutation from living on a completely different planet for thousands of years had changed the Tollans from their roots on Earth. The man had already published quite a few journals within the LRI community on the genetic differences between Abydonians and current day Egyptians of pure stock.

And finally, once again representing the US State Department after being brought out of his retirement, was Michael Banks; the man who had helped draw up the First Contact policy in the first place. He was the eldest of the group, in his late fifties and slightly overweight with very little hair remaining and most of that was grey. In his day, he had been an Ambassador and then Deputy Director of State, and the stress of the position had given him stomach ulcers that he was still struggling to this day with. He had been very reluctant to enter into the SGC in the first place, but General Downing was a close friend, and they had both been in the same Army unit in Vietnam. When his friend had called with this fantastical opportunity, explained the need for civilian government input into the SGC…well, he couldn't say no to the man who had saved his life numerous times during the war.

Waiting patiently for them was the Tollan contingent. Taro was there, and had been joined by another 'Guard' wearing the same kind of clothes and also armed with what they assumed was a hand held energy weapon. Daniel hesitated in thinking of them as 'military', their bearing and attitude didn't feel right, especially not towards the two 'civilian' Tollans who had arrived.

The first was the surprisingly young woman who Daniel had been conversing with in ancient Mayan with the past few days. Edati Xaq was about a head shorter than he was, a lithe build that was partially hidden by oddly cut grey robes over a white bodysuit with rough soled shoes that seemed part of the suit. Her face was set with a pleased and excited expression that was framed by long curly black hair and hazel eyes that seemingly radiated intelligence at you.

Standing next to her with a stoic expression was Omoc Qet; the most important Tollan in the clearing. He was the representative from the Tollan executive governing body, which called themselves the 'Curia'. He was seemingly in his early fifties, fading dark hair and seemed to possess a vitality which belied that age.

_"Welcome to Tollan, Daniel Jackson,_" Edati bowed her head slightly.

Daniel returned it. "_Thank you, it's an honor to be here_. _We bring greetings on behalf of my...tribe_." There was definitely some problems conversing in old Mayan in a modern context, for one the language didn't have words that could accurately communicate certain concepts that weren't around during ancient times.

Omoc turned to Edati and spoke curtly to her in Tollan. She nodded.

"_We have a way for better speaking between us_," Edati explained, and reached into a pocket of her robes to produce two small silvery C-shaped devices. "_We do not know of your...traditions. It will put our heads...together_." She laughed with amused frustration. _"The part of our heads that allows us to talk will be...together_."

Banks frowned, his eyes squinting at the devices in Edati's hands. "What's she saying, Jackson?"

"Well, Mayan's not exactly ideal...er...I think she's saying those devices will link the language centers of our brains, allowing me to understand spoken Tollan, and presumably for her to understand English."

Captain Carter looked visibly impressed at that, yet she was also rueful. "Their cognitive interface science must be really advanced for that...we can barely use our minds to move a mouse cursor up and down."

"If the device is only for that, and can't be used for peaking in other parts of your mind, then go right ahead," Banks nodded.

Daniel quickly told Edati of that concern. She laughed. _"Tribal Leaders and their ilk are all the same it seems, no matter what planet they are from. No Daniel, it will only help us speak. The rest of your head is safe." _She handed him one of the devices and she instructed him how to attach it. One end went over the right temple, whilst the other ended up above his right eyebrow.

It stung slightly.

"Ouch," he flinched and there was a beeping sound. He saw the device on Edati light up with a soft blue color.

"Can you understand me?" she said. Daniel blinked in astonished confusion; he heard Tollan, but somehow his mind automatically associated the corresponding English word and meaning which was its equivalent.

"Yes, I can, amazingly."

"Good, we were afraid there might be some relative physiological differences that prevent the Interface Technology from being compatible...but it seems not to be the case," she nodded happily. "As we use the devices we'll be learning each other's language at a highly accelerated rate in the traditional sense, so after a while you will not have to wear it."

"This must be extremely useful in other spheres of study as well," Daniel commented.

"It is," Omoc admitted, his voice was surprisingly soft and measured, yet it had a commanding undertone that could not be denied. "Please follow, we will be using Taro's house to conduct our meeting." Daniel relayed what had been said to his fellows before the group left the Stargate clearing.

They walked onto a steep path that led along the side of the nearby mountain. The trees seemed to thin as they walked and it was only then that something struck Daniel...he was not hearing many of the sounds he would've expected in such a natural setting. There was no singing of birds, no buzzing of insects, only the rustle of wind through the grass and trees. When he mentioned this to Edati, she got a wistful and sad expression on her face.

"Tollan has not had winged animals since long before I was born, and land animals are scarce..." she hesitated and gave Omoc a questioning look. He briefly nodded. "Our planet is in a process of rehabilitation. In our past, we were heavily industrialized and our planet was overpopulated, to our shame we let this go on for too long and many species of animals and plants became extinct. Only when the devastation we had wrought stared us plainly in the face, did we finally make the necessary changes to our technology and society to save our planet. We barely averted disaster...and now are in the position of having to terraform our own planet back into equilibrium."

The Contact team traded knowing looks, and Daniel silently asked Banks for permission, which he gave. "Our own homeworld is quite industrialized and still uses methods which are harmful to the flora and fauna of the environment. We're in much the same position as you were then."

"Then we can be of much help to each other. Repopulating Tollan with lost species that are still present on your world would do wonders for our terraforming, and in return we can show you ways to make your industrial processes and technology entirely pollution free," Edati concluded brightly. Omoc coughed and gave her a beady eyed stare, which didn't do much to dampen her enthusiasm.

"That would certainly be a worthwhile trade," Daniel mused.

The walk finally came to an end when a house came into view, with rather unique architecture that Daniel was sure the engineers on Abydos would love to study. It was perfectly set into mountainside, with steel stilts that looked entirely too thin and there were lots of transparent materials in use in the outer walls, with interior curtains ensuring privacy. The front door automatically opened for them and an artificial automated voice chimed, 'Welcome back, Taro. Shall I prepare a meal for you and your guests?'

"No, thank you," he replied.

Daniel was rather surprised that the interior of the house was so…austere. He had expected there to be artwork, potted plants, carpets and similar adornments you would expect of such a house. The interior walls were white, the floor was simply tiled and the furniture was rather basic and uncomfortable, with hardly any cushioning.

They moved into an open plan seating area where Omoc gestured for them all to sit. "Now that we can speak comfortably, I would like to formally welcome you to Tollan."

"We thank you graciously for letting us be here," Daniel began. "It's truly a fundamental and historic moment us." Edati translated promptly afterward.

"How so?" Omoc asked. Now it was Daniel's turn to translate for the Contact team.

"This is the first time we've opened the Stargate into the greater Galaxy, initially we only had the coordinates of one other world that was relatively close to our own, and it was only a few months ago that we made the necessary discoveries to successfully create wormholes to other Gates."

Omoc sat back in his chair and folded his arms, "You are new to the Galaxy."

"Essentially…yes."

"I would advise your people then to cease any further exploration."

Daniel had been prepared to hear many things, but not this. "W-what? Why?"

"Dr Jackson," Ambassador Banks prompted.

"Sorry..." Daniel repeated Omoc's statement.

Omoc explained. "The Galaxy is a dangerous place, especially for a civilization at your apparent level of development."

"So I take it there are openly hostile powers that wouldn't take kindly to us just waltzing through their Stargate?" Daniel said with a wry tone.

"Most assuredly yes," Omoc nodded. "Were they to be made aware of you, they would take immediate steps to subjugate your world, enslave your population, and steal any unique knowledge or technology you may have."

Daniel repeated that for the team and a rather strong suspicion began to form in his mind. "Would they also suppress all forms of writing and forbid learning?"

"Yes."

"You're talking about Ra's race then?"

Daniel saw Edati's look of surprise in her eyes, whilst Omoc had too good a poker face to read.

"Yes…you know of him?"

Daniel looked to Banks again, who nodded.

"Yes, we knew him."

"Knew?" Edati asked with astonishment.

"For a few days, when we first opened the Stargate from our homeworld," Daniel explained. "We couldn't reconcile our differences and we ended up introducing him to a nuclear bomb, transported directly onto his ship."

Daniel saw Edati now gaping like a fish at him. "You killed Ra!"

"Yes. He was going to destroy our world," Daniel shrugged. "It was the only way to stop him and save the people of Abydos."

Edati finally translated for Omoc who for the first time cracked his poker face to stare grimly with narrowed eyes at the team. "Much is explained." He stood and walked over to one of the transparent walls and stared out at the mountainous countryside. "We knew that Ra had vanished, but not his true fate. If what you are saying is true…then you have, inadvertently, started a galactic war."

"WHAT?" Ambassador Banks stood in shock. Omoc was unfazed by the outburst.

"Ra was the Supreme Leader of his race; who are called the Goa'uld. They are a galactic wide feudal empire. With him out of the picture, all the other Goa'uld beneath him are now jockeying for position and moving unopposed through Ra's space and gobbling up his territory and resources. Of course, they're all fighting each other for a piece of those resources. All the old feuds and hatreds between them that Ra kept pacified through threat of superior force are reigniting."

Daniel felt as if he was encased in ice as those words from Omoc slammed into his brain. It had all seemed so right and simple when they had killed Ra; it had felt so good releasing the people of Abydos to their freedom. Now all it had seemingly done was throw a lit match into a dry field.

"We didn't know…w-w-we…were only defending ourselves," Daniel stammered.

"We accept and understand that," Omoc sympathized yet his tone was hard, "but it doesn't change the facts of what is happening now in the greater Galaxy."

* * *

Samantha Carter stared dismally at the hologram hovering in the air over the small non-descript table between the contact delegations. She was constantly revising her estimate of the Tollan tech level; as the table looked to her eyes like a standard glass and steel piece of furniture, yet it was somehow producing an extremely high definition near solid hologram of the Milky Way Galaxy above it. The source of her depression was the very numerous blobs of space, colored in an angry red, which was spread over it like some sort of horrible disease.

Goa'uld Space.

The Five Kiloparsec Rings, the Norma Arm, and the Scutum-Crux Arms were almost completely colored in red. The only saving grace was that most of Goa'uld space in these galactic arms was on the other side of the Galaxy and mostly obscured by the galactic core. Most of the Sagittarius Arm was free of Goa'uld, though there were tiny red stars sprinkled in it, showing planets where the Goa'uld only projected influence via Stargate as the distance from their space was too great for starships to reach within an economical and practical timeframe. The Outer Arm was also free, though that wasn't surprising since it was outside the Galactic Habitable Zone. The Perseus Arm and critically the Orion Spur (since this was Earth's backyard) was also free.

'_Thank God_,' she thought.

It was still an astronomical undertaking that she saw before her. The Goa'uld, a hostile alien race, had a bit more than half of the Galaxy in their grasp. She tried to imagine how many ships, not to mention Stargates would be needed to maintain such an Empire, and at that point wished she couldn't do math as well as she could in her head. Then she tried to imagine the resources and manpower that had to be behind building that many ships. To fight and dismantle that structure looked to be an undertaking of whole generations, centuries even.

Also on the plus side there was the Goa'uld's feudal nature; that they warred with each other and would, even should Earth come to their full attention, consider it small fry and far out of the way. They left the Tollans alone apparently, due to their superior technology and a defense grid in the system which could inflict dire losses on any System Lord's forces, to the extent that they would be so weakened that they would be easy fodder for their rivals. The Tollan System was deep within the Sagittarius Arm, and like Sol, was also quite distant from major Goa'uld territory.

The closest Goa'uld planet was three months away by an FTL capable ship, and even that was a world which they could only access via a Stargate.

"It's a bleak picture they paint," Ambassador Banks muttered to her. Sam nodded as she watched Edati and Daniel continue a cultural exchange to one side; comparing Earth's histories with the Tollans'. Omoc and the other militia guard had left the room to go somewhere else in the house, whilst Taro continued an awkward conversation with Dr McKenzie. Dr Harper had been given access on his request to publically available documentation on Tollan's terraforming progress and was eagerly reviewing it with the aid of a Language Interface device.

"That it is," Sam agreed.

"Any hint or idea on your part that they could be possibly…fudging the truth for our benefit?"

Sam raised a shrewd eyebrow. "That's Dr McKenzie's and your own province, Ambassador."

"He's a good, experienced psychiatrist, Captain. He wouldn't be here otherwise, but he's in unchartered waters, we all are. I want your opinion as a military officer."

She considered that for a moment, arranging her thoughts carefully. "I saw nothing that would indicate they're lying or trying to deceive us, Ambassador. I almost wish I _did_ see something of that nature. Their description of the state of the galaxy was forthright, matter of fact. If this was a deception, then they shouldn't have brought Edati. They could've had Daniel interface with Taro or even Omoc in that case."

"You're thinking she doesn't have it in her to deceive us?"

"I wouldn't go that far. My own reading of her, my gut, tells me that she would've reacted in some way to any exaggeration or even lie from Omoc. The only motive for the Tollan to want to deceive us; is to protect us. They have to realize that we'd eventually do our own recon of the Galaxy, whether they like it or not, and if this info clearly doesn't match the reality…well, I'm sure General Downing will be less than pleased, I can't speak for the civilian side of the SGC."

"It'd definitely strain relations, but we wouldn't break it off. I'd have to wait for Dr Jackson's report on their culture to see how they would care or view being caught out in a lie."

Any further discussion was interrupted at that point as Omoc entered the room. Sam could only describe him as even more tense than usual, and his militia guard member looked like he had been told of a death in the family. Omoc manipulated a small device on his wrist and the Galaxy hologram vanished to be replaced with lines of holographic Tollan text. Edati gasped and covered her mouth in horror, whilst Taro let out an exclamation of dismay.

Banks stared in puzzlement at the Tollans. "What's happening, Jackson?"

"Is there a problem?" Daniel asked hesitantly.

Omoc was visibly looking as if he was struggling to master himself. Edati was suddenly speechless and stared at the holographic writing as if she had seen a ghost; in fact, her pale pallor suggested she was a hairs breath away from fainting. The silence stretched on. The elder Tollan touched the wrist device again and the holotext vanished.

"It would be easier to show you. Come with me."

With that he stood and soon afterward they were outside again. Omoc stared at the blue sky searchingly for a few moments before pointing at an area roughly fifteen degrees above the horizon, relative north-west of the house. Sam looked and noticed nothing…just clear blue sky. She squinted and scanned more the sky, thinking she'd missed whatever Omoc was pointing out, but there was still nothing.

Then it happened.

A sudden flash of light and to her eyes a new star appeared in the day sky. The apparent star quickly dimmed after only a few seconds and once again vanished in the blue hue of the sky. Her mind struggled to make sense of it, then with a crushing finality she realized the only thing that that could've been.

Daniel asked in confusion. "Uh, what was that?"

Sam looked to Edati with wide eyes. "That was in this Solar system wasn't it?" She only nodded. "Was it closer to the Primary than Tollan?" Edati had tears in her eyes at this point and again nodded.

Banks prompted pointedly. "Captain Carter?"

Sam didn't want to say it, as if saying it would make it true, but it was real, a horrific reality that had to be acknowledged. "This planet is going to be destroyed."

**

* * *

Control Room, Gateway Centre**

**SGC, Abydos**

"What?" George Hammond wasn't sure he'd heard correctly as he stared at the wall screen projecting the live feed video images of the First Contact team on Tollan. "Can you repeat that Captain Carter?"

"General, the Tollan homeworld will be uninhabitable to any form of life within just about a year."

"What the hell! Why?"

Carter shook her head sadly. "This solar system consists of eight planets, two of which are in the habitable zone around its star. Tollan is the fourth planet. The third is called Serita, and is or should I rather say, _was_, inhabited by a substantial human population. The Seritans had a level of technical development about a generation behind our own. They still used fossil fuels and harmful industrial processes. The Tollans didn't want to see the same ecological disaster, which had happened to them, repeat itself on Serita. So the Tollans gave them a clean, abundant, energy generation technology. The Tollans understandably didn't want to elaborate on the specifics of it to us. But their surveillance satellites detected a ballistic missile carrying one of the power generators, set to overload, in its nose; it was fired by one of the nation states on the planet at another state. The explosion wiped an entire continent off the map, sir."

George's eyes were as wide as saucers by the end of that explanation, feeling instinctual horror – he had lived through the Cuban Missile Crisis, and all the other close calls the West and Soviet Russia had had. He knew it was a God honest miracle that mankind still had a nurturing home on Earth and not a radioactive wasteland and to his shame he felt relief that it hadn't happened to them. "The Seritans started a nuclear war with each other."

Captain Carter nodded. "Yes, sir. At least, what we would define as such. The other state managed to get off its own missile as well, this one was even worse…it literally cracked the planet open."

George was amazed and horrified now. "What in the hell is powering the Tollan cities if an overloaded generator can do _so much_ damage?"

"I don't know, sir. Honestly, I'm not sure I _want_ to know," she admitted grimly. "Suffice it to say, the destruction of Serita is going to have a significant impact on the Tollan solar system. The shifting gravitational conditions are already playing havoc on ocean tides and they've had to order evacuations of all their coastal cities. Planetary weather has also shifted badly, they've experienced tornadoes, super-storms and out of season storm activity that's only adding to their problems. But this is just the beginning, General. The shifting gravity will also affect the planet's tectonics as its being slowly pulled into a new orbit by the local star's gravity, due to the sudden absence of Serita's gravity. I won't go into any more specifics, but the bottom line is that this planet is slowly going to die over a period of a local year, that's roughly fourteen Earth months."

George took a few moments to absorb that. "What is the total population of Tollan? And how many Seritans were there for that matter?"

Ambassador Banks answered gloomily. "Just over three billion people, George. The Seritans were about four and half billion souls all told."

George could only sit down in the chair at his station, as that number hit home. He looked behind to the observation gallery; it was much emptier than before, General Downing and his aides were still there. Downing met his eyes and nodded firmly. George turned back to face the camera pickup at his station.

"Ambassador, what total planetary evacuation scenarios do the Tollan have in play?"

"None, as far as we can tell," Banks shook his head. "They're still trying to come to grips with the fact that it happened at all. It has only been eight hours, after all, since Serita was destroyed."

"You mean they don't have anything like our Emergency Alpha Evacuation Plans?" George asked in bewilderment. The AEP was a plan which called for every person on Earth with a unique knowledge or specialty; in the sciences, arts and engineering, to be literally kidnapped and flown to Cheyenne Mountain. This also included the President and his immediate family. Then another thousand specially selected American civilians, again for their skills, but mostly for gene pool diversity (who were on notification that they were part of a continuity of the American way of life program in case of a nuclear war), would go through the Gate to Abydos, and finally the entire staff of Cheyenne Mountain would follow before setting off a nuke behind them to bury the Gate and evidence of their destination. That was only one form of the AEP. There had been so many other scenarios wargamed and envisioned that the thing was a three hundred page book.

"It's doesn't seem that way."

Dr Jackson coughed and stepped forward, "General, in speaking to the Tollan, I've determined that their culture doesn't really…support that sort of thinking. They're one united culture, that hasn't fought a civil war in their living or historical memory. Their high technology and knowledge means they look upon less advanced races in the Galaxy…even Ra's race…as being somewhat beneath them, or at least, not a cause for concern at all. They thought that the Seritans would use the tech responsibly, as it would've benefitted everyone to have such free, abundant energy. Clearly, somebody in power on Serita didn't see it that way…"

Silence fell on the First Contact team and in the Control Room. Finally, George spoke up, having made a decision. "Are you in any immediate danger from the super-storms?"

Captain Carter answered. "No, sir. The closest one is over two thousand miles away."

"Good. I want you all to remain there until you have a firm idea of what the Tollans are going to do. Offer any advice or suggestions you can, if you see it's needed."

"Yes sir. We'll check in on schedule tomorrow."

"Understood, good luck."

**

* * *

SGCHQ "The Quad" Central fountain**

**SGC, Abydos**

Arms crossed, brows furrowed, and body tense Craig Vandermill appeared the picture of a man overwhelmed by troubling thoughts. Indeed, the CIA Deputy Director of the Stargate Services Directorate was occupied with a thousand thoughts and very few of them pleasant. Learning that two worlds had, in essence if not literal fact, been destroyed by the actions of a few in power was disturbing. The stark reality that it could have easily been one's own planet simply drove home lessons that no one could stomach easily.

His entire morning had been spent locked away in the "War Room" beneath the HQ complex alongside the rest of the SGC leadership. They reviewed the reports from the Contact Team and then spent hours discussing, debating, and in the case of a few of the more aggressive members threatening galactic war. Craig couldn't help but sigh. The tension throughout his body near the end of the session had nearly vibrated him out of the room on its own. Now, he stood staring as the simplistic four tier fountain as he had so many other days since more or less moving to Abydos.

Normally, Craig found staring at the small fountain at the center of the Quad relaxing, but there had been too many revelations today for the simple waterworks to mentally wash them away. The forty-seven year old Tennessee-born man's mind continued to chew away on the issue of Ra's race - the Goa'uld as they now knew them, and of Tollan's impending doom. The two issues weren't directly related, but when the added context of worrying over his own planet's spot in this bigger picture a grim chain was forged. No matter what they had all wanted to believe Earth was in no way ready for what was awaiting them.

The sound of voices approaching snapped him from his weighty thoughts and his chocolate brown eyes shifted from the cascading falls of the fountain to the approaching sound. He couldn't stop the small grin that broke his otherwise dour looks as the sight of a group of Abydonians being lead on a tour of the SGC. Clearly, their guide was enjoying her duty if the large grin and excited rambling was any indication. With a barely audible chuckle he shifted his attention back to the fountain when suddenly his eyes widened a fraction and his maelstrom of previous concerns and thoughts came to a dramatic halt for a brief moment.

A single thought echoed in his mind for the briefest moment before igniting a blazing trail of ideas and solutions through his mind like a firestorm.

"My God," he whispered to himself, "that's it."

The revelation had barely even registered with him on a concious level before he broke out in a sprint for the primary HQ building. He had to speak to the rest of the SGC's leadership, Earth, and the team on Tollan as soon as possible. The nearby tour group stared in confusion after the rapidly retreating CIA Director before turning their confused expressions to one another. Their guide finally offered the natives an equally confused shrug before continuing on.

"And we're walking..."

**

* * *

SGCHQ "War Room"**

**SGC, Abydos**

**2 days later**

All eyes in the room were glued to the large display at the head of the table. It wasn't everyday that the SGC held a conference call via Stargate transmission and even more mare to have the President be the one "calling in".

"I'm sorry Mr. Vandermill, Generals, I'm not sure I follow what you're trying to explain."

The gathered leadership of the SGC exchanged looks before returning their attention to the video image of the President.

"Sir, what we've learned just since sending the team through to Tollan has seriously shifted our understanding and knowledge of the broader galaxy. We now know that not only are we and the Abydonians most certain not the only humans in the galaxy, but we're also woefully unprepared militarily for what's out here. Add to that the rather grim lessons hit home by this issue of Tollan's neighbour destroying themselves with technology they were gifted..."

"I agree that it all paints a grim picture Mr. Vandermill, but again it's where you're going with it that I am unclear on."

"We need time, allies, knowledge, and most importantly understanding of that knowledge that we simply do not have currently Mr. President. Most importantly though we need resources that simply are not feasible with the currently limited scope of the SGC. Sir, we need what only a whole planet working together can provide both in terms of simple research and raw manpower - forget everything else."

"You're talking about disclosure Mr. Vandermill. That's simply not something the US is prepared to consider. The value of the SGC is off the scale and I would've thought as the CIA's point man there you'd understand that."

"No disrespect sir, but I do...and more than you do if I may be blunt. However, I can also see the writing on the wall. We may be sitting in a very comfortable position right now, but how long until that changes? We've drastically changed the dynamic of an almost galaxy-wide empire of aliens who like to play god. While Abydos and Earth have been ignored so far, or possibly even written off totally for whatever reason, we won't stay off the grid forever. We wanted to explore the Stargates - well that's going to set us on a path to trouble."

"Yes, I heard your arguments the first time Craig. Let's cut to the chase. Tell me exactly what you're proposing and leave the justifications for later."

"We offer the people of Tollan every possible aid we can up to and including temporary shelter on Abydos. The _only_, and I can't stress enough how much I mean "only", thing we ask for in return is a delegation of their teachers ranging across all fields of expertise. Earth needs to set a precedent of learning for ourselves - not simply scavenging things we barely understand. Continue as we are currently with their teachers instructing a select group of our best and brightest who can relay their lessons to our various R&D teams. In the long run this should cement our relationship with the people of Tollan far, far better considering what's just happened to them."

"I can easily agree with that approach."

"Next, we stick our leadership in a room and we hammer our a way to make Disclosure work that doesn't end in Earth going down the same road as Serita. Then, we act on it. We need all of Earth's resources and while it goes against most of my training to say... we can't work to our planet's full potential if we're trying to hide every damn thing we do."

The room filled with the sound of quiet chuckles at the comment and even the President cracked a small grin on his otherwise aged and dour face.

"And in the meantime?"

"We reevaluate our priorities, try to begin careful exploration via the Stargate to get our own clear picture of the situation in the Milky Way, and then..."

Craig paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Then we draw up plans for a war unlike any conceived of outside of fiction Mr. President. These Goa'uld have kidnapped humans from Earth, enslaved them for thousands of years, committed genocide on a level we really can't wrap our minds around, and countless other crimes. If we, as Americans, believe even a thimble's worth of what we say every time we send troops into a war torn country on Earth then what's going on in the Galaxy should certainly get a response from us as Humans."

"Mr. Vandermill..."

"Sir we're not prepared, I know and that's why I'm outlining the approach that I am rather than demanding we send troops through the gate to enslaved worlds right now. We have to be smart about this and go about it the right way, but sir...we cannot in good conscious let the status-quo continue."

Silence once again descended on the conference room as all parties considered the conversation. The debates prior to contacting Earth and the President had been long and heavy, but ultimately everyone agreed on the CIA Deputy Director's approach. Now, it was in the hands of the President to make the final decision.

"I can't make a choice like this on after a single conference call - you all know that. However, I will provisionally say that I see your points and admit that the course of action you have outlined has serious merit. I'm giving you two weeks to draw up a formal and thorough proposal. I want the SGC leadership back here on Earth to brief me in person on the proposal in that time. You'll have two days to brief and convince me. Oh, and when I say thorough I mean it. I will not sign off on something like this without knowing that every angle humanly conceivable is covered."

"Yes sir. We'll be ready."

"Good. Get to it then and I'll see you all in two weeks."

As the large screen with the President's image went dark and across the SGC the Stargate shut down a new tension began to build amongst the gathered leadership. They had two weeks to essentially plan the future of their world and a war unlike anything their collective experience would comprehend.

No pressure.

**

* * *

**

**Tollan**  
**Saggitarius Arm**

**Milky Way  
5th September 1996  
Seritan Distaster +6 Days**

Sam stared with mixed emotions of fascination and sadness out of one of the numerous large windows of the small Tollan 'mini-shuttle' at the view beyond. The highly advanced vehicle, about half the size of the school busses she had ridden as a child, though much more aesthetically pleasing to look at, had smooth lines with a silvery white hull and was currently flying a leisurely course over the Tollan capital city – Tyrarcas - at about three kilometers above ground level. It was also a relief to be rid of the HEPA masks after they had received a medical checkup and immunization from a Tollan Medical Officer.

That the architectural marvel below her and the technology behind it would be gone within a year was…

She shook her head to clear it of the irrational anger and outrage that thought had sparked. It made her wish she could get her hands on the bastards on Serita that had caused the disaster…no, this tragedy the likes of which even the ancient Greek storytellers could never have conceived of. The city below had skyscrapers that dwarfed the tallest structures on Earth. The most impressive of which was just over a mile high and dominated the skyline of Tyrarcas. She had asked their guide how that was achieved and was rather disappointed that it involved using a super-strong metallic element that had not been discovered on Earth and a form of anti-gravity – meaning both were out of Earth's reach for the immediate future.

Her eyes ranged over her fellows from Earth and found Taro, who had been assigned on a more permanent basis as their liaison. He was looking blearily out over the city and dare she say it, even depressed. She didn't blame him one iota. His world was going to die and he couldn't even be with his family during this time. This was due to the fact, that he was actually a criminal. His crime had been one of negligence apparently and he wouldn't elaborate, only that his 'sentence' had been to live in isolation doing guard duty on the Stargate. The only reason he had been granted the assignment of being a guide to the Contact team was that everyone else was either busy being with their families or trying to find a way to save the entire Tollan civilization in the time they had left. Things were not looking good on the latter score.

Sam reached into her pocket and placed the Language Interface on her temple, before standing up moving across the cabin to sit down next to the man.

"We did this to ourselves."

Sam was startled at that assertion. "How do you figure that?"

"We gave the power generators to the Seritans to stop them from destroying their planet's ecology, but that is just the lie we told ourselves. We interfered. In our smug superiority we thought that the Seritans were just a mirror of ourselves. We stopped them from learning the lesson our civilization had to endure and fight through and now we reap the consequences of our actions. Ninety nine point four percent of all the people on this planet might as well be dead already."

Sam felt her lips thin at the defeatism. So far the only plan the Tollans had come up with on their own, considering the time constraints they had, the need to avoid opportunistic attacks by the Goa'uld in their weakness (meaning they had to relocate to a world off the Goa'uld radar and no Stargate, rimward and out of the Sagittarius Arm), was to build massive five kilometer long transport ships that could carry two million of their people in some form of stasis. In the time they had left, their current shipyards could only build, at the most optimistic projections, twenty such behemoths. Adding every other FTL capable Tollan ship to transport effort, only added another fifty thousand souls which could be saved.

The news of this plan had just been officially broadcast to all of Tollana twenty minutes ago. Much as the Contact team had wished to have input, the Tollan government, especially its science ministry and shipbuilding authority had had closed sessions for the past five days to come up with this plan. Sam and the rest of the Contact team had rather incredulously looked at each other as it was announced; not believing that it was the best solution such an advanced society could come up with.

"What if we could help?"

Taro swiftly countered. "Does your planet have enough ships to ferry two point nine billion odd people in FTL?"

"No, that we don't. But we do have an idea that should let you save every single Tollan."

"Using the Stargate? No, any planet we could gate to will be on the Goa'uld map…and the logistics of people moving through the gate in a thirty eight minute window means that even in optimal conditions, in the time this planet has left, we could only move seventy eight million eight hundred and thirty six thousand people through the Stargate."

"Look Taro, we admit that your people are very smart, but your environment and the way you think are blinding you to a very simple and obvious solution."

Taro frowned at her in confusion. "What solution?"

"We've also modeled planetary evacuation scenarios, and ran into the same problem with moving enough people fast enough through the Stargate's thirty eight minute window. In your simulations, did you have people _walking_ through the gate?"

"Of course, how else would you go through the Stargate?"

**

* * *

Council Hall  
Tollan Curia Building  
Tyrarcas, Tollan  
6th September 1996**

Michael Banks found the seat of the Tollan government rather refreshing in terms of design. He'd expected them to base themselves in some lofty citadel or perhaps even in that monstrosity of a building in central Tyrarcas. The Curia, rather humbly, was set in a sprawling thirteen acre campus located on the edge of the capital city. It was bedecked in green with sprawling lawns and flora, with the buildings near artfully blended into the natural scenery. The tallest building was barely four floors and he would bet bottom dollar that the engineers and architects who were constantly experimenting with gravicite alloys would simply faint walking through this place. The beautiful place was well defended too, and here the Tollans made even their deadliest weapons look artful. The sight of the 'Ion Cannons' – that's what they were called according to Taro - on the roofs of some of the buildings and dotting the perimeter, didn't make you think of something that could apparently smash anything in near orbit to pieces.

The Curia themselves were a council of eleven popularly elected officials drawn from what Taro called 'distinguished individuals of great knowledge and skill'. Michael didn't know what to make of that besides that perhaps the Tollans had actually managed to make a true Meritocracy work. Given their technology in interfacing with the brain, perhaps they even had empirical and reliable IQ testing, and as such could actually choose truly qualified people to enter employment that matched their skills near perfectly.

The eleven men and women were mostly in their middle-ages, except for a woman who seemed to be in her mid-sixties, and she was far from suffering the usual infirmities that came with that age. Omoc was seated in the middle of a raised bench made of some sort of white synthetic material that had integrated lights in its design. That was the only thing that differentiated the feeling from all those years ago when he'd gone before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to be interviewed for his job. There was also the lack of visitor or observer benches in the large room; but apparently this hearing was being recorded holographically and was available to any Tollan on the planet who cared to tune in. Given what was going to be discussed, he wondered if the entire planet was watching.

The SGC Contact team was seated behind a similarly high tech table, and was obviously lower than the Curia Bench. They had been in session for a long time already, and Banks could see the fatigue in their faces.

"…we will now hear from the Contact delegation of Earth," Omoc declared for the record. "Ambassador Michael Banks, Captain Samantha Carter, Doctors Daniel Jackson, Aaron McKenzie and John Harper."

Michael stood and cleared his throat. "I thank the Curia for agreeing to meet with us in this decidedly difficult period. So we will get to the point quickly, for time is not on any of our sides. We are here to offer you a solution to the tragic conundrum you face. Captain Carter…"

Michael sat down as the Captain, looking very polished a fresh Class A uniform, stood and tapped on a touchpad button integrated into their table. Taro had helped to program the graphics that would be displayed in holograph form at their temporary residence in the city.

"Our plan is this," the Tollan Stargate appeared in its current position. "The Stargate will be moved to the Tilatha Plains on Tollan's central continent." As she spoke the image turned to computer generated imagery and it showed the Stargate now on the aforementioned planes. "Constructed in front of it will be a twenty point four _zapaw_ long rail track."

Michael looked down to his notebook open in his lap to remind himself that a Zapaw was the Tollan unit for long distances. It equated to roughly twenty five miles.

"Mounted on these rails will be six hundred and sixty cars each about eight point five seven Zapal long, two high and one point seven wide. Each car has its own electric motor that is powered via streaming electricity along the rails. This will give it a speed of one hundred and forty Zapaw per time set. Each car has the capacity to hold about ninety six standing passengers. That means you can transport sixty three thousand, three hundred and sixty people with each run. Allowing for acceleration, it will take eight minutes for this 'train' to pass the event horizon."

In the graphics the train came to a stop on another length of track on another world, disgorging all it's passengers within less than three minutes from multiple doors. The Stargate was then dialed again for the train to pass back to Tollan.

"The preliminary simulations show that using this method, you can move two point one billion of your people onto the destination planet over one year. This can still be improved with increased power to the cars' electric motors meaning a higher speed, as I used power delivery data based on what Earth technology is capable of."

Michael inwardly smirked at the flabbergasted expressions on some of the Curia's faces.

"Impressive," Omoc said in his customary tone, but had a pensive expression on his face. "What is the target planet?"

"In the interests of time and saving as many people as possible," Michael spoke up, "the people of Abydos, a Protectorate of ours and where the SGC is located, offers you a temporary home there until the Tollan Stargate can be relocated via an FTL capable ship to whatever new world you have in mind for your civilization. The same method can then be used to move your people there. Abydos while desert around the equatorial regions has fertile regions in the far northern and southern hemispheres that with advanced preparation can be rather comfortable to live in with prefabricated housing."

The Curia members looked at each other and nearly as one, all of them turned to a rather short, stocky man on the far end of the Curia bench, who looked rather uncomfortable at the expectation and scrutiny he was suddenly under. "Captain Carter. I am Councilor Hatale, and I am the Head of Science and Technology Division. I…must tell you that a conveyance such as the one you describe hasn't been built on Tollan for a millennia. We always live close to where we work and generally most of our citizens can complete their work from their homes, and if they have to can appear in holographic form or if a true face to face meeting is required they can simply ride their personal shuttles. Oh, we could certainly dig into the archives and reproduce them, but we would be using modern materials to do so and we could end up overengineering the 'trains' to the point where they don't work. No one among my division has the experience to produce and successfully operate it. We've lost the minor nuances of such systems to the past."

Michael was rather surprised at that statement. Simple logic should say that the Tollan could build an electric speed train that would far surpass anything Earth could do with them. But it seemed that the things were so archaic to them, that they might as well be scratching their heads. He suddenly recalled a documentary he'd seen on Discovery Channel where a group of engineers and students were challenged to build an ancient Roman Ballista siege weapon. They'd had the general schematics from ancient drawings and even managed to convert them to modern accurate measurements. They could only use tools that were available in that time, but could use modern machinery to do the heavy lifting. The problem was that they didn't have the exact wood used in ancient times, and actually used a wood that, in theory, should've been superior with greater strength. In the end, they managed to make a Ballista, which fired one shot barely a hundred meters, and then with their second, cracked the Ballista irreparably.

"We can help," Captain Carter said seriously, though he imagined there was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes at the embarrassed expression on Hatale's face.

Omoc frowned at the desk in front of him before he triggered something and a flat hologram appeared, scrolling lines of text at him. The other Curia members were visibly surprised at whatever was happening, and they all looked at each other in astonishment. The hologram vanished and Omoc regarded Michael intently. "Ambassador, the people of Tollan have just overwhelmed our communication channels. It's rare that everyone is listening, but as I'm sure you can agree, we can't blame them one bit."

"No we can't."

"They have spoken and I am hereby committing the full resources of the Tollan people behind this plan and ensuring its success. You do realize, I trust, that we will be tying up your Abydos Stargate for two years, perhaps more."

"We do, High Councilor. But the measure of a single life is priceless, and we can do without the Stargate for that time, it's a sacrifice easily made and will allow us to find our feet in the new reality we now find ourselves in."

Omoc half bowed his head in recognition of the sentiment. "Yet this sacrifice on your part would create a firm bond and debt between our civilizations, you clearly want something in return, eventually."

Michael traded looks with his fellow Earthlings. "We ask simply, that you become our teachers." Eleven pairs of eyebrows shot into the ceiling and eleven jaws, well, ten dropped to the floor in surprise. "There is much you've learned both as a civilization and about the Universe, we wish to learn the same and become a true starfaring civilization on our own merits. Serita clearly demonstrated to both of us, the perils of sudden leaps in technology that isn't balanced by an equal leap in wisdom. Earth stands on the brink of such a leap, whether we want to or not."

Omoc again conferred with his colleagues before declaring, "We accept. Ambassador, thank you."

"Thank you, High Councilor. Now if you'll excuse us, we both have a great deal of work to do."


	6. Chapter 6: Disclosure

_**Chapter Six: Disclosure**_

**White House Situation Room**

**Washington D.C., USA**

**Earth**

**16:25 Hours (4:25 pm EST)**

"There's a great joke in here somewhere," he thought with no small level of amusement. Sitting quietly at the head of the large conference table listening to several of the other attendees arguing amongst themselves had produced a small grin of amusement when he realized that his presence had been momentarily forgotten. Given the seriousness of the discussions being held he might normally have interrupted and reasserted his presence, but when you're the President of the United States you take your amusement where you can.

After another minute or so with no indication that the argument was going to abate, he finally stepped in.

"Gentlemen...shut up."

Instantly the room went silent as the grave. All eyes snapped to his, and a variety of looks ranging from amused to indignant filled the faces of the attendees. With a sigh the President shook his head and began to drum his fingers on the dark surface of the table before him. Amusement was all well and good, but sometimes his advisors simply annoyed him beyond reason.

"In case some of you have forgotten, I called this meeting because we have decisions to make that will literally determine the future of our world. I would appreciate it if you could grow up and stop arguing over your petty political agendas for the duration of the damn meeting!"

Throughout the statement his voice had become harder, louder, and filled with the frustrations of dealing with politicians and their flunkies for the better part of thirty years. It absolutely galled him that some of these idiots simply could not let go of their personal power-plays even in light of the discussions being held. His now narrowed and hard gazed swept the room once again and he mentally took note of the few faces showing signs of rebellion or offence at his words.

"Have you not been listening to what General Downing and his people have been saying? Was I the only one here taking this meeting seriously?"

Now the politicians in the room began to look a bit nervous. One face in particular was growing steadily more rebellious; a face that few in the room liked and most would enjoy seeing taken down a peg or two by the President. Everyone watched as the President began to stare down the man whose arrogance was about to cause a scene.

"Mr. President, frankly I must...," began the Senator from Indiana and Chairman of the Senate Appropriations Committee.

"Robert," interrupted the President with steel in his voice few had ever heard, "all you must do is shut your holier-than-thou mouth. Then, stand up and cooperate as the young Captain at the door escorts you out of this meeting. I have absolutely had it with you, your attitude, your positioning, and most especially your hypocritical bullshit."

Jaws around the room plummeted; very few people had ever heard the normally soft-spoken President speak so harshly. Many in the room, though shocked nearly to insensibility, were filled with a mildly dark glee at seeing Robert Kinsey verbally vivisected by the President. The thought that if nothing else came from the meeting it would, now, still be worth it was almost universally found at that moment among the attendees.

Standing and stalking toward his long time political rival the President gave up the pretence of civility. The stress of the Stargate and everything that went with it, the severity of the meeting, and a long time hate for the man before him finally snapped his normally iron-clad self control. It might cost a bit of political capital in the long run, but his eight years as President were already assured and his plans to retire set; the risk-to-reward ratio was heavily in his favour.

"I knew you were going to be a pain in everyone's ass on this Robert; I knew it just as assuredly as I know my own name. I also knew damn well where your ambitions were going to take you."

Suddenly the arrogance on the Senator's face turned into what could be described as an attempt at annoyed confusion, but to most in the room the blatant panic rising underneath was obvious. "I don't know what you're..."

"The NID, Robert, was never meant to be read into the program," interrupted the President. His voice had returned to its normal even tone, but the anger was apparent on his face still. "I left them out rather intentionally due to problems we have encountered within their ranks on other projects."

Everyone in the room began to understand just what was happening and a sense of shock became almost tangible.

"In a way you're lucky Robert. I fully expected this sort of treason out of you."

The President watched as his statement, and emphasis on the word treason, robbed Kinsey of what little color was left in the arrogant man's face.

"The leak to the NID has been taken care of. I'll deal with the NID as a whole soon enough. The problem was contained and you are an elected official so I was going to simply let it go, but keep you under close scrutiny. I was going to do this privately and the politically-minded way. Unfortunately, for you, your attitude has simply pushed me too far this time Robert. It's time you actually had to pay the piper."

"Now see here! I'm a Sen..."

"Not anymore."

The room fell silent once again as the simple statement by the President rang like a death knell. Everyone knew at once what wasn't being said aloud. The President's words came together and now everyone knew the fate of the soon-to-be ex senator. As the President gestured to the armed Marine by the doors all eyes tracked the movements of the three men. The President returned to his seat while the Marine escorted Kinsey from the room. It was done, but no one was sure how to continue.

"Ladies and Gentlemen why don't we adjourn for an hour? There are details I need to see to and we've been at this for almost two full days. I believe I've heard all I need to."

Glancing at the large digital clock displaying the local time on the far side of the room the President continued, "Be back here by 5:30, excuse me 17:30 and we'll wrap this up."

* * *

**White House Situation Room**

**Washington D.C., USA**

**Earth**

**17:40 Hours (5:40 pm EST)**

Once the room had resettled the President remained standing behind his chair at the head of the table. Removing his reading glasses and folding them he leaned forward and rested his forearms across the back of the chair; keeping his fingers occupied by holding the glasses he began to address the gathering.

"I want you all to know that I've listened carefully to everything you have all said for the past two days, and the days before. When I said I wanted a thorough plan I was deadly serious and I can see you all understood that. The proposals you have presented are obviously well thought out and address every concern I personally could think of and many I couldn't."

A collective sense of relief swept the room and the President couldn't help the small twitch of a grin on his lips. His eyes turned to Doctor Jackson and then to Catherine Langford seated beside him.

"Your idea for how to disclose the existence of the gate was inspired Dr. Jackson, and your proposals for how to carry out the idea are equally brilliant Catherine."

The two nodded their thanks.

Rubbing his tired eyes with the hand not holding his glasses the President continued tiredly, "It's been a long and tiring road for me so I can only imagine how each of you must feel. However, I will tell you that the work is appreciated and was not in vain. While the part of me set in the old ways screams out that the entire idea is absurd, that we can't share something like this with other nations, I concede the points you have all made. As such, I'm going to green-light the proposal."

It was a statement that brought equal amounts of relief and stress.

"Do what you have to do ladies and gentlemen, but do it right the first time because we are not going to get a second."

A chorus of "Yes Mr. President" echoed throughout the room.

* * *

**LRI Headquarters**

**Washington D.C., USA**

**Earth**

**Next Day**

Daniel Jackson was a ball of energy as he handed out the briefing material to the Archeologists, Engineers, and other scientists gathered. He was almost as excited and nervous about this meeting as any of those he attended the two days prior. There was going to be an immeasurable amount of pressure placed on the people attending this meeting to make sure the plans for disclosure worked.

"Thank you all for being so prompt. I've got a lot of ground to cover so let's get started."

Looking around the room Daniel took a moment to calm himself and then, with confidence he only partially felt, began.

"The President has approved our proposal for Disclosure of the Stargate to other nations and the world at large," he began and continued on while ignoring the looks of astonished disbelief appearing around him, "and we here at LRI are the lynchpin to the entire plan."

Clicking the remote control in his hand brought up a now very familiar black and white photo on the projection screen behind him.

"While certain allies will be briefed on the true history of the Stargate, Project Giza, and the SGC - the world at large will never know. Well, at least they won't know for a long time."

Confusion expressed itself on the faces around the room. "I thought you said the Stargate was going to be disclosed to the world at large," questioned one of the Archeologists.

"Ah," grinned Daniel, "I did, and we will. However, the world at large will never take the discovery of something like the Stargate being kept a secret well. That's why we're not going to."

The smug look of satisfaction on Jackson's face didn't sit well with the confused gathering and a growing murmur of dissatisfaction threatened to derail the entire meeting. It was a softly chiding voice from the back of the room which drew both everyone's attention and a slight embarrassed blush from Daniel.

"Daniel, don't tease them. We don't have time."

All eyes swept from the mildly amused face of Catherine Langford to the sheepish visage of Dr. Jackson.

"Right," he said clearing this throat, "Sorry. What we plan to do is 'discover' the Stargate all over again. It will be public, it will be a media circus, and it will make the people of Earth think they've been in on the biggest discovery in human history right from the start. LRI is going to literally become the face of the Stargate, or I guess you could call us the 'Front Company' for the SGC's operations."

Silence followed the declaration.

"Our role in disclosure, LRI's role that is, is to set up the 'discovery' of the Stargate and its subsequent study. We're going to be using the original Langford Expedition as a startling place for our 'show' and build from there. We have already begun to file the necessary requests with the Egyptian government to return to the site of the original expedition under the pretence of recent discoveries regarding the original. In order to ensure their approval we've also indicated that the entire effort is to be part of an educational video series that we will gladly provide to their universities free of charge."

"The discovery of the Stargate will be made public as soon as we 'uncover' it. We will make public that we have no idea what it is, but that we have pulled together teams of experts to study the find. The entire process will be public and we will use the exact same process the original teams studying the gate did to keep everything as real as possible. Once we 'complete' the translation of the cover stones and make that discovery public is when the government will start to do their part."

"And what's their part," asked a young Engineer.

"Well, the US is preparing to disclose the real truth to certain other nations. By the time we're ready to announce the translations and our 'suspicions' to the public, the other nations will have been brought into the plan. At that point, the UN will commission a group from outside LRI to investigate our claims and research. That will be a little white lie though since, well, those experts will be SGC personnel not associated with LRI publicly."

Continuing, Daniel added another piece to the puzzle quickly sorting itself out in the attendee's minds. "It was no mistake that LRI consists of such a wide range of departments and fields of expertise. While we originally planned it as a purely US-backed operation we were still prepared for the wide variety of specialties necessary. Now, with this plan in place LRI is one of a very small selection of organizations equipped to handle the sort of broad research that a discovery like this will require. Since the Stargate will technically belong to LRI at first, we are perfectly placed for the UN to appoint us custodians, with their oversight obviously, for the gate and all future endeavors related to it."

Catherine stepped forward drawing everyone's attention once again. "When all is said and done LRI will be what the world sees as Earth begins to use the Stargate and explore the galaxy. Plans are in place for how, where and when we will make specific discoveries up to and including the Goa'uld. We have our work cut out for us, but we are now at the forefront of human history."

* * *

_"...in a joint press conference with the FBI Director and the U.S. Attorney General shocking news was brought to light regarding a year-long investigation into the watch-dog agency known as the NID, or National Intelligence Department. Details are still thin at the moment, but a series of arrests were announced including over a dozen highly placed members of various government departments and even two members of congress. The NID is currently under executive order to suspend all operations pending a full congressional inquiry and review by the Department of Justice..."_

Leaning back with a small grin the President pressed the mute button on his TV's remote and returned to reading the latest brief from the SGC. Some days he really did enjoy his job.

* * *

**Stargate Control  
Cheyenne Mountain Complex  
Colorado Springs  
USA, Earth**

The view over the large expansive area centered on the Stargate from the nerve center of the CMC was fast becoming her favorite spot to muse on the myriad of issues and problems facing her and by extension the SGC. Vice Admiral Lindsey Donavin's eyes always found the giant obsidian metal ring and lost herself within its perfect circle; it was almost as if she transported back to her childhood when her Grandfather would take her on hikes into Rocky mountains, and she would just stare into the flames of the campfire whilst he would tell her stories of adventure, daring and heroism from his endless supply of them. She wondered what he would've said if he had known that the young, slip a girl from Wyoming would in the future be responsible for building the infrastructure which would support humanity's reach into the stars, and that she would also be the one that would have to also assemble and build yet more infrastructure to save an entire civilization.

She watched as yet another train car was slowly moved into position by ceiling mounted cranes from the Mass Cargo Elevator. Finding suitable train carriages that could be upgraded on Abydos hadn't been at all easy. Amtrak train yards all over the country were filled with retired carriages that had not been sent yet for reclamation due to a lack of funds on the part of the national rail operator. This often meant that they were mostly rust buckets on tracks and were not worth the effort to have them transported to Colorado Springs and CMC. Every engineer on her staff was combing those rail yards with a National Security directive in hand and a NSA agent in tow. Thus far they had found twenty three retired Amfleet intercity railroad cars that met the suitability criteria. They had originally been built in the seventies and early eighties, and at least had an aerodynamic appearance and were ordinarily capable of speeds up to one hundred and twenty five miles an hour.

She wasn't surprised really that Amfleet carriages were turning up to be the most suitable. In her research, she had found that the Budd Company had built them from spot-welded stainless steel sections, making them very strong and resistant to corrosion. They also had dual disc brakes on each axle with electronic anti-slide controls to prevent wheel lockup from standard or emergency brake applications. If there was one thing that would be critical to the whole endeavor then it would be the brakes. They had to squeeze as much acceleration as possible out of the train, to get it as quickly as possible through the Gate. Then decelerate as quickly as possible, disgorge the passengers in less than a minute. Then the Tollan evacuees had to be moved as quickly as possible to their temporary accommodations.

She thanked God every day that the Tollan had accepted responsibility for that part of the exodus. Most of their entire manufacturing infrastructure was now being geared to make prefab dome houses that could literally fold itself up into a compact easily transportable form, be moved on the train through the Stargate, then once delivered onto a suitable plot of land, and unfolded like a flower and assembled itself, everything guided by its own internal computer. It provided twenty five square meters of air conditioned living space and had its own food synthesizer that literally 'made' synthetic food from certain base elements and energy. The latter of which was provided by a small fusion energy device no bigger than the engine in her own car. The only thing left to decide was where to place all the domes, since they still needed a natural water supply. The uppermost latitudes had plenty of freshwater rivers, so there was no problem there, but the mountainous southern regions only had semi-perennial rivers from seasonal weather. Perhaps the domes could be placed all along the coast of the only ocean on Abydos, with abundant energy the desalination of seawater became cost effective.

Lindsey shook her head in inward amazement. She had seen the prototype for the dome house being demonstrated on Tollan just last week and had had to pinch herself to make sure she hadn't been dreaming throughout.

"Hmmm," her eyes grew pensive. Thus far she had only solved the acceleration and top speed part of the train. Area 51 had in the past year made great strides with Yttrium Copper Gravicite Superconductor that only needed a simple Freon refrigerator unit to keep its superconductivity at two hundred and sixty five Kelvin. Integrating those into an electric motor would deliver unheard of energy efficiencies, in turn delivering acceleration and speed that would, theoretically outstrip even a Maglev train. But decelerating so much mass in such a short time… that would need much stronger brakes than simply dual discs, it would need to be at least ventilated quads and yet she still couldn't imagine that turnaround times would be improved. Simply put, brakes worked on the principle of friction working against kinetic energy to turn it into heat or other forms depending on the type of brakes.

"Come on, Sir Isaac, give me something to work with here," she implored under her breath. The Master Sergeant at the Stargate control computer shot her a quizzical look, but she was too absorbed in the problem to really notice. She needed kinetic energy to move the damn train fast, yet she couldn't shed it fast enough in the deceleration phase on the other side of the wormhole, not without going into unacceptable wear rates on the brake pads; which would force them to be replaced after just two or three runs. The train just massed too damn much…

Out of the corner of her eyes she spotted something that made the proverbial light bulb switch on. She turned her head so fast that it threatened to give a spasm in her neck. She massaged the stiff muscles as she stared at the framed picture of an F15E in a full vertical climb and firing off its missiles, with the word 'Dominance' prominent in it. It was one of the Air Force promotional posters still dotted about the CMC. With the evacuation train going so fast, it got to the point where aerodynamics of the lead car and the rest of the train was very important, to the extent that they might as well treat it as a low flying aircraft. So how did aircraft stop? Airbrakes and reverse thrust in addition to undercarriage wheel brakes. Putting jet engines to a train would need a very strong attachment points to the steel frame…then… what if the Tollan could help with the mass reducing inertial dampener research that was going into the new X023. Artificially reducing the mass of the train would certainly be a God send to this problem.

"Admiral."

Lindsey turned at hearing the familiar voice. General Downing stood next to her bedecked in full form uniform, with his black SOCOM beret under his arm and _all_ his awards and citations pinned to it. He looked like he was ready for an official photo shoot. She felt positively ordinary in her service khaki's next to this handsome vision of military brass. If the man wasn't already happily married and her superior officer, she could easily see herself making a play for him. She might have been in her late forties and divorced, but that didn't mean she was an old prune.

"General. I thought you'd be on your way to Brussels by now."

Downing gestured to the view beyond the control room. "I just wanted to see this for myself."

"It's just the beginning," Lindsey sighed, feeling a weight of an entirely different sort on her shoulders; the weight of three billion lives. "I've put the orders through for ballast less track to begin construction, that's actually going to take the most time to do. I've also sent one of my engineers to Tollan to begin showing them what to do on their end. Then it's upgrading and modifying the carriages we send through."

"Are you going to be able to find enough of them?"

"Not of those," she pointed to the intercity carriages, "they're the ideal base to work from, but we're more likely to only find cargo rolling stock in the amounts we need."

Downing nodded in understanding. "Which company would build those today?"

"Bombardier Transportation, they have production facilities all over the world, but the two factories in New York State, Pittsburgh, and the one in Germany are the ones that have the capacity to build them today. It'd be a great help if we could get them in on this effort, but we just don't have the time to wait until Disclosure. Every minute that train remains unfinished is literally lives lost."

"Easy Lindsey," Downing advised, his tone becoming supportive and empathetic. "We're going as fast as we can. Your people are doing everything they can, as fast as they can. You can't ask more of them, and of yourself."

Lindsey took a deep cleansing breath and nodded, pinching her nose wearily. "I once thought that commanding a ship, being responsible for the lives and direction of hundreds of people at sea was the greatest responsibility I could imagine. Now…"

"_We_, Admiral, have that responsibility, not just you. Every single member of the SGC that can be spared is working on this, and soon, we as a planet will share that burden. Don't make me order you on vacation. Understood?"

Lindsey felt horror at the very thought. She couldn't imagine trying to lounge on some beach and trying to relax when all this work was still to be done. "No, sir."

"Good, carry on, Admiral."

"Yes sir, and good luck."

* * *

**NATO Headquarters  
Brussels, Belgium  
Earth  
**  
He knew he was an oddity among most of his ilk. After all, how many politicians could boast being a fully qualified and published physicist, having thirty scientific articles on diverse subjects from solid state physics to quantum interaction of superfluid helium? It often fell on his shoulders to explain proposed scientific ventures to his colleagues when the proposals crossed their desks. It was sometimes a task that was very tiresome, and it occasionally left him with the desire to scream and break something at the stupidity that surrounded him on most days. He would then calm down, forcibly remind himself that not everyone was blessed with the same opportunities and intellect that he had, and unfortunately, politics was a profession that by its nature did not mesh well at all with science. As the latter was the search for empirical fact and law, while the former dealt with flawed human perception. Javier Solana de Madariaga, Secretary General of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, sat back in his chair and regarded the large round NATO Council meeting room and studied the faces of the Senior Generals and Defense Ministers that sat around the circular polished table.

Total silence had descended on the room - a rarity in itself - as everyone of the assembled dignitaries processed the incredible facts that General Downing had just presented to them. Javier paid close attention to the faces of the council members and noted many different reactions taking place as shock wore off. Giving way to various expressions of confusion, incredulousness, stupefaction and in some cases even anger, all quite understandable reactions to the presentation that the United States had just given.

Javier himself was of many minds regarding it. One part of him scoffed as the subject of the presentation was so completely and utterly outrageous. Another rational part of his mind overrode that saying that the US would most assuredly not embarrass itself on purpose in a forum such as this by concocting this story…and what a story it was, something that could have been lifted straight from the pages of Iain Banks, Greg Bear or David Weber. But this was no work of fiction but something that was all too real, according to General Downing.

Javier had never met the General formerly in charge of United States SOCOM personally, but knew the man by reputation and his accomplishments, and he would not be 'yanking their chains' as an American would say, in this room. He was dead serious, and that frightened Javier more than anything else. For the man had essentially presented to them a future that while fantastic and awe-inspiring, was one which would be filled with blood. He fully understood now why they had asked for the white-noise generators and other anti-eavesdropping devices to be turned on and for the meeting's relative secrecy.

He reached over to the presentation folder that had been handed out to all the attendees and picked up the small coin sized disc of an element that was apparently not of this world. It had a faintly crystalline feel to it, was cool to the touch but considerably heavier than something this small should be. Looking at it he wanted nothing more than to have his old lab back at the University of Madrid to confirm its reported properties and begin experimentation. If the US was right about the properties of the material then the potential applications... limitless and revolutionary didn't begin to describe them. It made the scientist in him giddy with excitement.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts as General Downing was speaking again and he forced himself to pay close attention, stuffing the eager scientist back into his mental box - for now at least.

"…you're of course welcome to come to Cheyenne Mountain Complex as your schedules will permit and see for yourselves."

The Canadian Defense Minister shook his head ruefully. "So this is the actual reason you moved NORAD to Peterson AFB?"

"Correct," Downing admitted. "Creating an off world base through a supply line that only remains active for thirty eight minutes at a time isn't easy. We had to extensively remodel the inside the mountain to cope with the logistical demands."

"I imagine it wouldn't be easy," the British Defense Minister George Robertson commented before turning serious. "From what you've told us about this 'Stargate Programme' so far it is a truly massive undertaking."

Chuckles ran around the table and Javier resisted the impulse to snort as the middle aged Brit spoke, something's never seemed to change. The British penchant for understatement being one of them, 'massive undertaking' didn't even come close to describing the scale of what had been described to them.

Robertson waited for the delegates to cease there chuckles and snickers before continuing to speak, addressing his comments directly to General Downing.

"Given the scale of this programme and what you have already committed to what do you want from us? You wouldn't have told us all this unless you wanted something," he asked prompting nods of agreement from all around.

"You're right," General Downing replied. "This isn't easy for us to admit, indeed there are still a number of people who believe we should keep the whole thing to ourselves, but we need your help." He took a deep fortifying breath. "We, the people of this planet, are on the cusp of a new age. The technology for cheap and easy means of escaping our own gravity well is perhaps only two or three years into the future. The consequences of that are difficult to imagine, never mind the promise of the entire Galaxy through the Stargate. What is clear that with that promise, comes a dire threat."

Javier shivered at the very thought of the alien that the Americans had defeated on Abydos. That there was a Galaxy more where they came from was beyond a nightmare.

"The United States cannot possibly shoulder the burden to liberate a Galaxy of our enslaved cousins and descendants on its own."

"War," Alain Richard the French Defense Minister nodded. "War of Liberation on a scale that makes World War 2 look like a lovers' quarrel."

"That very scale," Rudolf Scharping, German Defense Minister pointed out, "should give us pause. We cannot go through that Stargate until we are ready."

"Gentlemen," General Downing raised his hands and looked around at all the Council members, "that sentiment the United States very much agrees with. We must prepare, and that is what we request. Firstly, that you select elite soldiers from your respective Special Operations groups and send them to Colorado Springs. There they will train and help establish a new operational doctrine relevant to off world combat operations, and eventually they will be the founding members of the Special Tactics Warfare School, which will be based on Abydos. They will be soldiers on the cutting edge of technology, the elite, the dagger in the night.

"Secondly, we must prepare our sword. With a gradual, staged disclosure of the Stargate in progress, we can eventually begin training our armies, navies and air forces to face this new threat, and all our collective scientific talent and ingenuity can be brought to bear on new discoveries we make in the Galaxy. Thirdly, we can have the most potent defenses and offensive systems in the Universe, but that won't help us if we don't know _where _to apply that power. Therefore, we request that you also begin selecting Intelligence operatives who can be trained to function in the greater Galaxy, and be this planet's eyes and ears."

"Reasonable and perfectly doable," Robertson commented. "How do you plan to oversee all of this? The Stargate and everything related to it rightfully belongs to the entire planet - we need to start thinking about somekind of international set up to oversee it. Otherwise when the rest of the world finds out they could well accuse us and the US in particular of tech hoarding."

"That is something that we will need to sort out minister," General Downing replied. "Believe me we are well aware of the need for something like that to be in place. The current thinking for now, is we use the existing NATO command structure to oversee the operations of the Stargate Program and expand upon it as time allows and more nations come onboard.

Eventually an international panel can be appointed to oversee the project for the good of the whole planet and ensure any and all technological and military spoils are spread equally - as you correctly point out the Stargate and everything to do with it belongs to every human being on this planet. It is in no ones best interest for the impression to be given - incorrectly or otherwise - that one nation or group has exclusive control over the gate."

"There is another issue, how do you plan on revealing this to the rest of the world, especially the rest of the Security Council," Richard said. "It is all well and good for us here in NATO to be informed and consulted with regards to the Stargate, but all the permanent members of the UN Security Council need to be informed before public disclosure happens."

"I believe that the State Department is working on plans for that now," General Downing replied. "It will be difficult especially with Russia given the lingering animosity on all sides left over from the Cold War, and the Chinese reaction is a bit of a wild card, but it will be done. I'm not familiar with what exactly they're planning right now but I can assure you all that you will be fully consulted on all facets of it."

* * *

**Cheyenne Mountain Complex  
Colorado Springs, Earth**

Colonel Greg Richmond of the 300th Military Intel Brigade, sat to all outwards appearances as unflinchingly and straight as you would expect any senior member of the army about to see his superior officer. Greg watched as the General's assistant typed on his computer with a well practiced and efficient speed, occasionally referencing from a huge book on his desk, before resuming. He wondered if Yates longed to be on Abydos as much as he did - to be out there eventually exploring the Galaxy - or whether the man was a true REMF. Admittedly there wasn't a need yet for Field military Intel officers, not for another two years at least until the Tollan evac was complete and freed up the Abydos Stargate. Unless the brass decided to change status quo on the use of the Earth Stargate – which was looking very likely - when he dropped the little bombshell he and his team had unearthed from the Pentagon Archives.

He also wanted to be there when the Tollan eventually briefed Earth on the Goa'uld threat at a tactical level. Earth already knew some of that from fighting with Ra's minions. Greg had devoured Colonel O'Neill's debriefing reports and had them practically memorized. But that was surely a different kettle of fish from fighting Goa'uld front line troops. To use an Earth comparison, so far they had only fought the Goa'uld Secret Service, and not the Goa'uld Army. There was no telling what they would be capable of in a straight fight. Yes, they would probably also have the staff plasma weapons, but not in such an un-ergonomic form, and given the performance of the 'Death Gliders' – the new reporting name for Ra's aerospace fighters – especially its hull against man portable ballistic weaponry, then it was reasonable to assume that the front line troops had some pretty potent body armor too. Hopefully, the Tollan could fill in these blanks.

The Armories on Abydos had long been experimenting with the staff weapons captured from Ra's bodyguards, testing and researching different materials that could potentially stop a plasma blast from killing a soldier instantly. He had read the preliminary reports and pictures of what the damn things did to pig carcasses. Greg shuddered at the mere thought that someday there would perhaps be a plasma bolt with his name on it. He hoped that the eggheads at Area 51 came up with something in the next two years to keep his fragile bodily tissues from being flash fried to hundreds of degrees.

A beeping sound from Yates' desk disrupted the silence of the office. "The General will see you now, sir."

Greg nodded and picked up the box containing his little treasure. It had been searched three times on his way down here, put through a digital x-ray, metal detector, and even an explosive sniffer. He had also been subjected to retinal imaging as a further layer of security on top of that. The SGC and the CMC in particular was clearly gearing up for the impending Disclosure.

The moment Greg was in Downing's office, he kept the box under her left arm, came to attention and saluted.

"At ease, Colonel Richmond, have a seat," said the four star Army General and Commander of the SGC, who was looking distinctly tired. The man had, after all, just come from a NATO Council meeting. Greg wished he could've been a fly on the wall of that briefing, but he could well imagine how the various Defense Ministers or Allied Forces Chiefs had reacted to the SGC and the Great Truth. "So I take it you've found something?"

"Yes, sir. As you know, the Pentagon's released all its files related to the Stargate to Project Giza when it was first started in the late eighties. Obviously to prevent the Project from repeating the same mistakes and to use the World War 2 era research done on the Stargate as a stepping stone. Well, as my Intel team discovered, the Pentagon _didn't _actually release _all _the files."

Downing's bearing changed instantly to anger, due to apparent implications of that. "What? Why?"

"These files and materials," Greg pointed to the box, "were further buried under another layer of code-word classification, and even filed under a completely different section – those related to Military Accident reports. It was filed there, sir, I can only assume due to ignorance of the event described in them. The fact that it was also in the Army archives didn't help – we didn't have a separate Air Force back then."

Downing nodded in understanding. "What event?"

"It would be more illuminating to show you, sir." Greg reached into the box and pulled out a video tape. "This contains footage transcribed from old eight millimeter film of one of the experiments done on the Stargate in 1945. With your permission?"

Downing nodded. Greg walked over to the small TV/VCR combo in the corner of the room and inserted the tape. A few moments later the screen flashed to life and an image was shown of the Stargate within the beginnings of CMC, when it was just a few levels deep. Huge insulated copper cables were crudely attached to the Stargate, and two Army Air Core men were on ladders on either side of it.

Downing shook his head in astonishment, "They turned the Gate manually back then."

"Yes, sir. They also had these giant capacitors and diesel based electrical generators that they had to run for hours on end for enough charge just to engage a single chevron."

The General laughed at the thought. "We're spoiled today, Colonel, all these newfangled computers, DHDs and nuclear reactors."

Greg allowed his mouth to twitch into a smile. "Yes, sir."

The footage continued, showing the scientists in their forties era hairdos, suits and uniforms as they busied themselves taking whatever readings they could, with seismometers, primitive magnetometers and so on. Greg advanced the tape until the time code indicated that a day had passed.

"WHAT THE…!" General Downing erupted, shooting out of his chair the instant he had comprehended what was being shown. Greg didn't blame the man, his own reaction when his Lieutenant had brought him the video tape had resounded throughout the Pentagon Archives.

The Stargate shown on the screen was _active_. It had an _event horizon_ in it's maw. In 1945.

General Downing was clearly struggling to get his mind in order. "That's….that's…Colonel, have you verified the authenticity? Is this footage faked?"

"It's verified, sir. My Intel team scrutinized it for any possible inaccuracy. There were none. We've identified every person in the footage and confirmed that they were assigned to the project in the forties."

"This doesn't make any sense, Colonel. Why would they have stopped their research if they actually managed to turn it on?"

"This is why, General." Greg fast-forwarded the video until it reached the appropriate time code. It now showed a young, bright eyed man with glasses, excitement in his eyes, being fitted with an old bell diving suit. The next scene showed the suited man standing in front of the active event horizon, air tubes trailing behind him…he walked through…the wormhole disengaged suddenly severing the air lines. The footage rocked violently as the cameraman rushed forward to show a scientist holding up the perfectly cut tubes. The film finished.

"Good God," Downing was, if possible, even more shocked.

"As you can see, Sir it now seems as if Colonel O'Neill was not actually the first Earthling to step through the Stargate."

"Who was it?"

"His name was or is Ernest Littlefield, one of the younger scientists assigned to study the Gate."

Downing frowned. "Why the double tense, Colonel?"

"Because there is a remote possibility that Ernest Littlefield is still alive, General," Greg asserted, he reached into the box again and produced large A4 sized photographs and handed them over. "Computer enhancements that my team did of the footage, showing the Stargate address they dialed."

"This is…Abydos…" Downing murmured as he flipped through them, "no…the last two chevrons don't correspond."

"Yes, sir. This is another planet that Mr Littlefield gated to. It has similar coordinates so it must be relatively close, definitely within a hundred light years of us."

"Okay, so that explains why we didn't find an American on Abydos already," Downing handed back the photos. "I agree that the chance is there for Ernest Littlefield to still be alive. He's a damn hero in my book, and we don't leave those behind if we can help it."

Greg agreed with a firm nod. "Absolutely, sir."

"That being said, our Gate is booked for the next month as we're shipping through rolling stock and track to Abydos. We can't afford any delays there. We'll just have to wait and plan in the meantime."

"There is another fact that I've uncovered, General." Greg paused for a moment, getting his mind around the implications. "This address, sir, on a hunch I've run it against the Abydos Cartouche database." He took a breath. "There are no matches."

"You're telling me the Goa'uld doesn't know about it?"

"Yes, sir. This was Ra's address book, in essence. He was the top dog. So there is no clear reason why this planet wouldn't be in it. My Intel team has two theories that explain this…either Ra wanted to delete all reference to this planet for some unknown reason or…"

"Or?"

"Ra didn't know about it, General."

Downing raised his eyebrows. "You realize what the latter theory implies?"

"Yes sir. It would be proof that the Stargates weren't built by the Goa'uld."

* * *

**Stargate Control  
Cheyenne Mountain Complex  
Colorado Springs, Earth**

The bright blue light and eerie rippling sound of the active Stargate echoed through the large embarkation room as the last shipment of rolling stock was being transferred to Abydos. Most of the staff of the CMC who had been working in rotating shifts on the transfer for the past month was there for the occasion. They watched as the roof crane lifted the six hundred and sixtieth train car and it was steadily and swiftly moved into position and lowered onto the retractable track that was perfectly positioned in front of the event horizon. Two men climbed the car and released the crane's clamps, before assisting in attaching it to specially welded points on the rear of the car. The ceiling crane now moved forward, pushing the car into the maw of the Stargate. When it had built up enough momentum the crane operator disengaged the electronic clamps.

The instant the car vanished fully into the wormhole a tumult of applause and celebration broke out; hands were shook, backs slapped, and hugs exchanged. Downing grinned at the jubilation. He and Lindsey had ridden them damn hard to meet this first deadline. Now it was all up to the folks on Abydos. He turned to the screens which showed the aforementioned Admiral with a rare smile on her face in the SGC Control Room. Downing hadn't been surprised when her request to directly supervise the construction on Abydos came through, and he had readily granted it.

It wasn't as if Earth was going to lose complete contact with Abydos for the next two years. There were already Tollan starships on their way to the planet, crammed to the gills with equipment and infrastructure that couldn't fit through the Stargate or be disassembled, which were due to arrive within six weeks. Those ships would be available on request for any emergency transfer of personnel or equipment needed from Earth. The Tollan had even installed a rather thoroughly black-boxed real time FTL com system in his office, and another in SGC Control.

"We can confirm successful receipt on this side, General."

"Excellent, Admiral. Enjoy your time on Abydos."

"I'll make the most of it, Sir. We'll get it done."

Downing didn't bother to elaborate on the stakes involved and simply nodded. "I'm sure you will. CMC out."

The Master Sergeant, ever on the ball, cut the constant radio signal and the Gate automatically disengaged itself. Downing turned to the elderly Catherine Langford standing anxiously next to him.

"We're going to do a systems check first, Catherine. Thirty minutes."

"Oh darn it," she sighed. "Ever since I learned of this I've been on tenterhooks." Downing couldn't exactly blame her. As it turned out, Catherine had been engaged to be married to Ernest Littlefield at the time of the '45 Gate activation. So she was considerably interested in the fate of her erstwhile fiancé, enough to mostly put aside her LRI work for the mission's duration. "I can't imagine what I'll say to him…if he's still alive."

"What else is there to say but the truth?"

Catherine smiled ruefully. "True."

Downing grabbed one of the chairs in front of the main Control station and offered it to her, since it seemed she was disinclined to leave. He watched as the CMC engineers and scientists went about their job, checking systems and preparing for a Gate activation into the unknown. The CMC despite being designed to serve primarily as a support structure for the SGC could serve the basic exploration and reconnaissance functions, but no expense was spared for defense. Should anything manage to get its way through the Stargate's Iris, an invader would be promptly facing a virtual hail of armor piercing tungsten and explosive ammunition from dozens of autocannons and grenade launchers mounted in the ceiling and looking down. Which could either by fired by remote control or directly by crew.

"All systems are in the green and MALC is on standby, sir," the on duty Master Sergeant finally reported.

"Thank you, Sergeant. Dial PB2-908, let's see if we can't rescue us a hero."

"With pleasure, sir."

A specific claxon resonated throughout CMC, alerting the staff of a wormhole connection attempt. The Chevrons on the Stargate blazed into amber life, all of them flexing at once, as power was channeled through it. The inner track began to spin a familiar pattern to lock on to Abydos, but with two glyph coordinate alterations. Downing noted that Catherine was wringing her hands in anticipation and anxiousness as the Stargate worked.

"Chevron Seven is…locked."

Catherine's voice trembled as the familiar vortex blossomed in the maw of the Stargate and settled itself into stability, "Oh my…"

The first thing, as always into the event horizon to an unknown world, was the 'Radio ball'. "Receiving signal, destination is provisionally valid," reported the Master Sergeant.

"Send the MALC," Downing ordered.

The six wheeled probe lurched forward and under direction of another Sergeant at a control station behind Downing, drove itself up the ramp and smoothly entered the wormhole.

"MALC is en route…receiving telemetry."

The image that resolved on the screens around the Control Room was one of an indoor environment, black marble floors and dull gray stone walls formed a large hall like room that had numerous corridors branching off from it.

"That place has certainly seen better days," Catherine commented. Downing saw what she meant; the walls were cracked, chipped and flakes of stone and dust covered the floor. The windows were small and curved, reminding him of the windows he had seen whilst visiting the numerous castles on the British Isles.

A scientist spoke up from his corner of the Control Room, "Atmospheric and gravitational conditions are in the green, sir."

"Amazing and only fifty light years away from us" Downing shook his head in bemusement.

When did he begin to consider such distances as trivial? Then he noted something. "Where's the DHD?" It was nowhere to be seen with the MALC camera's field of wide angle view.

"Beginning visual search."

The camera began to traverse left, only finding more stone wall.

"That's odd," commented another scientist, "one would think the DHD would be put there for convenience, since most humans have right hand dominance, if indeed there were humans ever here at one time." The camera was now pointed backward and the PB2-908 Stargate came into view, it continued its traverse past that, and finally the DHD came into view, placed in a recessed alcove with steps leading up to it.

Catherine smiled in relief and some of her tension eased, "Well, it looks like the mission is a go."

Downing shook his head as he walked closer to the screen, squinting at the image. "Don't jump the gun, Catherine. We've confirmed the DHD is there, but look at the run down condition of the place." He turned to the Sergeant at the MALC controls. "Sergeant, it doesn't seem like we could maneuver the MALC for an angle on the front of the DHD."

"No, sir," confirmed the Tech Sergeant.

"Would a smaller probe work?" The CMC and SGC also had access to a number of much more simpler robot probes, the smallest being no bigger than a football, which moved via tracks.

"Negative, sir. The smaller probes that could maneuver in that alcove would be too short to get an angle above the lip of the DHD control board."

"Which idiot architect thought it was a bright idea to put the DHD there?" asked the atmospheric scientist in exasperation. "We really need to put a lipstick camera on the MALC's manipulator arm, wouldn't have this problem then."

Downing repressed his exasperation. "That's for the future, Doctor…Weaver. I'm looking for a solution now, that doesn't involve using another rather expensive MALC and possibly losing both if that DHD is indeed proven non-functional."

Doctor Weaver pushed up his square rimmed glasses and tapped his nose in contemplation for a few moments. "Hmmm…ideally we'd have a UAV up and able to get top-down photography in this situation, but…the indoor gate rules that out. Ah, of course…rather easy…I'd need to go home though…"

Downing coughed pointedly, giving the rather scatterbrained scientist a pointed look, "Doctor, care to share."

"Oh sorry, General I doubt you know this about me, but I'm an amateur miniature airplane builder in my off time."

"No I didn't know that, Doctor," Downing confirmed patiently.

"Of course," Catherine started to smile in realization at what the scientist was getting at.

General Downing smiled as his mind also connected the dots. "Does that include miniature helicopters, Doctor?"

"Certainly."

* * *

The beach rumbled with the breaking of waves upon it, followed by hissing as the water settled down to foam and marched up the coarse sand, before retreating in the endless dance between water and earth. The strange sun shone its life giving light and heat with nearly no obstruction but for a few clouds. Nature here had less variety in fauna, but it was very abundant in flora, and the latter was all that had successfully sustained the single living sapient life form on the planet.

The old human man's footsteps sunk into the coarse beach sand, leaving behind him a trail that extended for a few miles along it. The old man walked with the aid of a crude but well worn walking stick, and he himself could fit that definition. Well worn. His skin was near brown from life under this particular alien sun, wrinkly from age and exposure to the elements. An unevenly cut white beard hung from his jaw contrasting with his bald head, the latter lost to common male baldness. He also wore no clothing, as he truly didn't see the point…there was no society here, and his only clothing that still survived after all this time was the old diving suit, cut so it would form a heavy frock and served to keep him warm in winter months, whilst the old castle provided all the shelter he could possibly need.

"Time to head back Ernest."

Ernest turned to his left. Catherine was there, looking as beautiful and radiant as the day he left, dressed in tight fitting swimming costume and lightly kicking the surf in a carefree manner, her long hazel hair being ruffled by the breeze coming off the ocean. It wasn't fair that she didn't age.

"Why?" he groused. "I've yet to find any more of those palm trees…" They weren't really palm trees, but that was closest Earth plant he could compare them to.

"Finding more of that juice in its fruit is not as important as you walking too far from the castle. You're not a young man anymore, honey."

"Fine, I'll just have to wait until next season for closer trees to bloom again." Ernest abruptly stopped and turned around beginning the journey back. "Do you …"

"Don't think about home, Ernest," Catherine chided. "Keep your mind on that ancient Knowledge Repository. It's bad enough that _I'm_ here…your sanity is close to riding on a knife's edge."

"Yes dear," Ernest nodded obediently. He had long ago learned to trust this ageless Catherine and he ignored her advice at his own peril. "Have you any new thoughts on the Norse runes?"

"No sorry," she shrugged in apology. "That subset you've been working on recently is promising in developing an alphabet, but again, we have no context to do any translation. It's not like you learned Norse at University."

"I'll just have to stick with that geometric language then, the math I've pulled out of there recently is intriguing, that which I can understand, at least."

The walk back to the castle took roughly three hours, judging by the progression of the sun, and finally the ominous black castle perched on the edge of an ocean cliff, that had been home for the last fifty odd years came into view. He walked off the beach and climbed the dunes up to more stable high ground slowly. He longed for the time when he could've climbed that cliff, but now he was forced to do the longer and easier route.

His customary entrance to the castle was actually a large broken gap in its exterior wall. Its actual gigantic doors were impossible to open as they used some form of advanced hydraulics that had long since broken down. Of course, that was just his personal theory; he hadn't seen anything remotely like hydraulics in the sections around the door, since they were intact and he had no means to cut into the hard stone. For all he knew the doors were 'teleported' open. He wouldn't put anything above the four alien races who had gathered here in the past.

Oh, how he wished that they had still been here when he stepped through the Gateway. It would've been amazing. Then again, he was also relieved in a way; there was no way he wanted to bring these four great races back to Earth at the time he had left, a world near torn apart with war and death. He was sure that the War had long since ended maybe another year or so…then again, he knew that war was something mankind would need eons to truly leave behind. Perhaps the Soviets had caused a new one in the past fifty years.

He was so deep into his thoughts as he walked the familiar worn corridors of the castle, that it took a while for him realize that there was a new, totally alien sound echoing through them. It was not the breaking of waves, it was not the whistling of wind, it was not the structural noises of the age old castle…it was a high tinny sound, almost like that of a bee. There were no bees on this planet; there were insects, but none that made this sound.

"Ernest, that's not natural," Catherine declared; she was now dressed in a floral skirt and blouse that he had always loved seeing her in. "You better go and see."

"All right but where is it coming from?"

"It's a new sound, and I doubt it'd be coming from the Repository Meeting Room, nor the Living Quarters, we've explored this castle up and down. It has to be…"

"The Gateway," Ernest concluded.

It took five minutes to navigate the corridors to the device which had brought him to this world, in which time the buzzing sound had stopped, but as he drew nearer, he heard a sound that echoed with alarming familiarity in his mind. The sound he had heard prior to stepping through the Gateway in 1945.

"Am I going crazy? After all this time."

"No, Ernest," Catherine shook her head.

"I'll reserve judgment on that, thank you my dear."

Ernest walked hesitantly down the last corridor which led to the Gateway room, before putting his makeshift monocle on his right eye, all that remained of his old pair of glasses, and peeking around the corner. His first thought was that his imagination had finally decided to conjure up something new for him to see. The Gateway actually being on was an old trick of his mind, but the odd machine on six wheels in front of it was a new one. It was made of a silvery metal and had black windows on various parts of it, plus a mechanical arm on top.

Then that odd buzzing sound started up again, this close its echoing din hurt his ears. An odd brightly colored shape rose into the air from the floor, it was barely bigger than a football, and it was only when Ernest saw the blur of small rotary wings above it that he realized it was a helicopter, like the Army Air Core's R-4 Hoverfly, but fantastically small.

"Are the aliens tiny people?"

"I can't say," Catherine shrugged. "One of the Four Races had to be at least four feet tall with some form of hands and grasping appendages; otherwise they wouldn't have been able to access the Repository plinth. So it's safe to say that this is not them."

He watched as the tiny helicopter moved hesitantly closer and closer in the air to the Gateway's broken Control pedestal until it stopped directly over it. It did so for hardly five seconds before moving away again and landing abruptly as its little rotary wings slowed down.

"Go Ernest, whoever they are, tiny or not, it's better than dying here alone," Catherine encouraged him. Ernest swallowed in a sudden bout of nervousness but nevertheless shuffled forward slowly. This is allowed his poor sight to take in more details of the wheeled machine and the small helicopter. He felt safer touching the latter and the moment his finger came in contact with the brightly colored plastic he almost wept in relief that what he had seen was indeed reality. It also dispelled the notion that there were small people inside it. What had looked like blacked out windows was just a glossy printed color paper to give that illusion. His hand closed around the helicopter and he picked it up.

There seemed to be a very tiny engine with an exhaust that pointed down, and what looked like an impossibly small optical camera slung under the main body. A little experimentation and he easily lifted the plastic shell of the helicopter. He could make no sense of its innards beyond that it was tiny electronics of some sort. A long silvery wire hung from these innards that ended in a plastic nib.

"A radio?"

He remembered the Germans Beetle tank, which was just a tiny tank filled with explosive that they could drive via a long command cable of over a quarter mile in length. This allowed it to be driven from a distance to explode against any fortified position. Controlling a device as complicated as this tiny helicopter via radio waves was a brilliant extension of the Beetle tank idea, yet he couldn't fathom how you could send the multitude of complex inputs over a radio signal.

"Dr Ernest Littlefield?"

Ernest blinked at confusion; that was not Catherine's voice. It was a man's voice, and it was coming from the wheeled machine. He walked closer to it and after touching it hesitantly just to confirm that it was real too said, "Yes? Are you in there?" Perhaps he was dealing with dwarfs, not tiny people, but then he realized the voice was speaking English with an American accent!

"No, we're talking through a radio inside the machine in front of you, Doctor. My name is General Wayne Downing, Commander of the United States Stargate Command."

Ernest dropped the little helicopter and felt his knees threaten to give way under him, but his arm reached out to the wheeled machine to support himself as he began to simply and unashamedly weep, both in joy and terrible relief. He didn't know how long he just stood there, leaning against the machine, but soon he was physically unable to cry anymore and looked at the rippling portal.

"Doctor, you can't walk through the gate," the General's voice came urgently. "They are unidirectional for solid matter from their origin point. We can walk through from our side, but you would die instantly."

"Oh, I see, I can't make a portal from this end, the controller…"

"We saw, Doctor. Rest assured we are going to come up with a plan to get you back to Earth." Ernest heard the firm conviction in the voice of this General.

"If you say so, General," Ernest said doubtfully. "So much time has passed. Did no one try again?"

"It was the mistaken assumptions when the Gate shut down after you went through. I can't say for sure, Doctor. They either thought that once you establish a connection that it should last long enough for you to come back through using the same connection. Then when the Gate shut down abruptly it was assumed you were lost and couldn't come back. It was written off as an accident and the experimentation was stopped. That changed thirteen years ago…"

Ernest was increasingly amazed at the story that was relayed by the general, how technology had advanced and how it had helped their understanding of the Stargate, how the Gate was deciphered yet again by another young man, this one an archeologist.

"Doctor, I must ask…is there no one outside of the building you are in?"

"I've walked in every direction for dozens of miles in every direction when I was younger, there's no one…" He wondered if he should tell them about Catherine, who was currently looking with interest at the wheeled machine.

"You're alone? You've been alone for over fifty years?" the General's voice was astonished.

"Yes."

There was silence for a minute before the General's voice came back. "Doctor the machine in front of you is also a camera; it can show us what is beyond any Stargate before we actually step through. It can also show a real time image of me to you."

Ernest shouldn't have been surprised. But when one of the black window on the machine came alive with color he was startled when it showed a film of an older man wearing an odd uniform; white shirt, gold striped blue pants, but it did have familiar features; such as the letters 'US' pinned on his lapels and the four stars on his shoulders. In the background was all a manner of machines with lights that twinkled on and off, as well as a pane of glass with what looked like a star map printed into it.

"Can you see me Doctor?" the voice from the radio and the film of the General moved in perfect synchronization.

"Yes," Ernest buried his amazement.

"Doctor, the Stargate can only stay on for a maximum of thirty eight minutes at a time, and we're approaching that limit. Before we move on to any other questions, my medical staff is insistent I ask if you require anything or have any problems?"

"I've had the odd accident over the years, been sick a couple of times when I experimented with the local food, but right now, nothing but the usual problems that comes with old age."

The General's attention was drawn off to the side as someone else was talking to him. "Dr Littlefield, what forms of food have you been eating?"

"Fruits, nuts and fish, I used to hunt some of the local animals, but I'm not in good enough shape to do so anymore. Why?"

"We're going to shut down the Gate, we will call again in one hour, and then you'll have the most delicious salmon dish we can find."

"Salmon? I don't remember how that tastes. But I'm sure it'll be nice to have a different kind of fish."

The General's mouth twitched. "We'll send some clothes along as well."

"Oh, so you really are seeing me," Ernest laughed a little, not particularly caring. "I hope I'm not giving anyone there a fright?"

The General chuckled while looking around him. "Well, there were a few female officers around who politely excused themselves or are firmly keeping their eyes averted from the screen."

Ernest was astonished, "We have women in the Army now?"

"We keep them from seeing direct combat, but they are in the support and intelligence branches…okay…we have to sign off, now. See you in an hour."

"See you."

The General's image vanished and the portal in the Stargate vanished with a _wooshing_ sound. Ernest turned to Catherine who looked at him with a brilliant yet sad smile.

"You're going home, Ernest."

"We don't know that for sure yet."

"They'll do it, honey. Maybe you'll even get to see the real me again. Though I'm sure I'll be wrinkly and grey if I'm still alive."

Ernest didn't know what to think of that and simply sat down, leaning against the communication machine and waited.

* * *

He felt really…odd…wearing something like normal clothes again. It was almost stifling to be encased in the shiny green jumpsuit with multitudes of pockets and Velcro patches. He sat in front of the 'MALC' as the SGC called it with his half finished meal of salmon, vegetables and rice next to him. He fondly recalled the days when he could polish such a quantity of food in no time. A coughing from the MALC screen caught his attention again.

"…so you were saying you worked out that the planet you're on has an eight day week," prompted Daniel Jackson, pushing his glasses up thoughtfully.

"Yes," Ernest opened the much worn notebook he had walked through the Gate with all those years ago. It was hard to remember a lifetime worth's of theories and conclusions he had made in his early years on PB2-908 after all.

"Have you been able to figure out who built this place or who used to live here?"

"It was Heliopolis for four great civilizations, what they call themselves I don't know…I've never been able to translate the written languages inside the Meeting Room, though if you know Norse I think we can get start working with one of the languages."

"One of the languages is Norse?" Daniel's eyes widened.

"It's similar," Ernest flipped pages and showed a drawn example to the young man.

"Ah, I see what you mean," he made some of his own notes, "so the castle is a 'Heliopolis'. I assume you mean the ancient Egyptian city. People would come from everywhere to gather there. Scholars. Community leaders. It was also the central place of worship for Ra. Are there ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs here? Symbols that indicate Ra."

"I've been through this castle top to bottom, even found a few secret chambers, but nothing recognizably Egyptian," Ernest replied.

"Okay, that's a bit of a relief," Daniel tapped his pen thoughtfully. "So this Meeting room, what does it contain?"

"It's a somewhat circular room with four equally spaced alcoves each containing the distinctive writing of the four races. In the centre there is a plinth that reaches to hip height, with circular dome on top. You touch this and sculptures of light begin to float in the air above you."

"Wow, the word for it is _holograms_," Daniel nodded, his excitement increasing. "What do they depict?"

"Elements."

"Elements?"

"Hydrogen, Beryllium, Sodium, Carbon, Iron, Barium…"

"Okay," Daniel raised his hands, "I get that, but how did you figure that out if you can't understand the alien languages?" Ernest paged his book and showed him a drawn figure of protons, neutrons and electron orbitals. "It's depicted pictographically?"

"Yes, a total of one hundred and forty six elements in all."

Daniel blinked, "There's only a hundred and eleven elements on the current Periodic table."

Ernest shook his head with a small laugh, "Only ninety since I last looked."

"That is incredible. I mean, we've only been able to speculate on the actual appearance and structure of an atom - the fact that four completely alien races chose to represent it visually in an almost identical way... but why elements?"

"The basic elements are what make up the universe, what other way would you use to ensure perfect comprehension and understanding between disparate civilizations with absolutely no cultural or biological evolutionary connection to each other," Ernest explained.

"Of course," Daniel slapped a hand to his forehead in exasperation. "But one hundred and forty six elements, pictographically represented in three dimensions as a communication medium…that's unbelievably complex. Each race would've needed to agree on syntax, vocab and grammar, not to mention scientific jargon."

"The information in that plinth could take generations, perhaps even centuries, millennia, to properly understand," Ernest nodded in agreement. "A collaboration of the knowledge of four ancient starfaring alien species can you imagine?"

"Whatever I can imagine must pale in comparison to the reality," Daniel declared with awe. "Dr Littefield, I'm going to send through a portable video camera at the next dial in session, which should be tomorrow at 0800. I'll give you a lesson on how to use it and then I would appreciate it if you could take us on a tour."

Ernest looked at the new watch set on US central time that had been given to him and noted that it was just less than a local day from now. "It'd be my pleasure."

"Thank you," Daniel said emphatically and looked to the side of the screen. General Downing moved into picture with a pleased and friendly expression on his face.

"Dr Littlefield, I have good news, you'll have just another month on PB2-908 before your rescue."

"Oh?"

"While our technology isn't yet at the point of sending starships into space beyond our home system, we have friends who do. We've requested that a ship of theirs be sent from SGC Abydos to PB2-908 and from there back to Earth. We'll also see what can be done to fix that broken DHD."

"Yesssss," Daniel shook a fist of victory.

"You're coming home, Doctor."

"Home," Ernest said faintly unable to believe that after all this time he would soon see Earth again. "Thank you."

"We were not about to leave you there, Doctor. If we had to we would've disassembled a naval nuclear reactor and sent it through with an engineering team to get you back. But luckily, such extremes are not necessary."

Ernest looked to his right where beautiful, young Catherine stood in her typical floral dress and a sad smile crossed her features. She waved slowly and daintily, tears falling from her eyes and sparkling in the light from the Stargate portal. "Goodbye, Ernest. You no longer need me."

"No," he mumbled reflexively, feeling his heart clench.

"Doctor?"

Ernest looked at the MALC screen briefly before returning to Catherine, but it was too late…she was gone. _She was gone_.

"Doctor? Are you all right?"

He was glad he was already seated, otherwise he was sure he would've fallen to the floor. He tried to restrain his weeping, but it was useless. Tears again began to fall.

"Yes, yes," he wiped his tears on his sleeve.

"We wished to bring up another…topic at this point, but I think it wiser to wait," General Downing looked to his right with a sharpish stare. "It's something that's best done in person, and I think you need time to process. There is literally no rush."

"It's personal?" Ernest asked wheezing.

"Yes, but emotional shocks are not what you need now. In fact I'm going to see if anyone will volunteer to join you for the coming month. I think basic human contact is what you need now to help you acclimate for your eventual return." General Downing immediately shook his head at Daniel. "Not you, Dr Jackson, you're needed here for Disclosure. Pick one of your subordinates that are Earthside." Ernest almost laughed at the near pouting expression on the young archeologists face.

"Thank you is all I can say and do."

"That is all that is necessary, Ernest."

* * *

**LRI Dig Site 01  
Giza Plateau, Egypt**

A cloudless black blanket of stars hung above the LRI work crews. Quickly and efficiently teams of archaeologists using only hand-held flashlights or small camping lanterns carried out their unique tasks. Carefully one team moved unmarked crates, hand-by-hand, in a bucket line down into the newly re-excavated site. Each crate was quickly open and divested of its cargo into the waiting hands of another team. The individual segments of cargo were meticulously arranged and reassembled under the watchful eyes of Catherine Langford as she compared the work to a black and white photograph in her hands. While the final product, here at the site, would only be a replica, it had to photograph perfectly to match the real objects soon to be under scrutiny.

Around the perimeter of the dig professional "private" security kept a sharp eye for any unwanted attention while far above a satellite not listed on any government's records kept silent watch around the area for miles around. There would be no witnesses, intentional or accidental, to the work. In a matter of hours the work crews would vanish as if they had never been there. When the sun rose that morning the LRI dig team would wake up and return to their task of re-exploring the old Langford Expedition site in hopes of a new discovery. They would all be very shocked, and quoted as saying such, when their hopes paid off only a day later.

* * *

**United Nations  
New York, USA **

Doctor Elizabeth Weir would confess – if asked – to being in something of an incredulous daze. She imagined it would be understandable as a few hours ago she and other American and NATO diplomats at the UN had been given a set of files to read before the closed meeting of the UN Security Council that had been requested by the President himself. Files whose contents had literally rocked her world to the core, just as it had the Security Council when the President had made a rare personal address to them.

The contents of the files had been genuinely earth shattering in more ways than one. And yet at the same time she was note overly surprised to find out that the Air Force had been up to something big at Cheyenne Mountain after unexpectedly moving NORAD from its traditional home to Peterson Air Force Base – a move that had had been the talk of many a discussion in the media since it had occurred as it had been completely unexpected. What did surprise her however was what the Air Force had really been up to and what they had encountered. Especially as that something felt like it came right out of the pages of some epic sci-fi story and not real life – the idea of a device existing that could near instantaneously teleport someone across hundreds or thousands of light years to another planet, and the fact that there were humans on other worlds in the galaxy – some primitive some fantastically advanced – really did feel like science fiction and not reality.

Yet she could readily believe it was true. The evidence presented to the UN by the President and General Downing could not have been faked. The Stargate was real as was it promise to the people of Earth and the great dangers that came with it especially the parasitic species that held much of the galaxy in an iron grip of terror and fear – ruling over uncounted humans as self proclaimed 'gods'.

Course the cynic in her was wondering just how long the US Government and Air Force had actually known about all of this. How long had they hidden it from other governments and the whole of the people of Earth for there own reasons? Reasons that she didn't doubt would be classified as national security but which in her personal opinion would really descend from the American history and tradition of manifest destiny.

She knew that would be a great many senior military, intelligence and government personnel who wouldn't hesitate to have tried to keep the existence of the Stargate secret so America and only America could benefit from it. It was a relief to find out that they'd failed in that regard – that cooler and more logical heads were apparently prevailing and revealing the secret to the world. _Though are they really doing it because they've gone and gotten us into a war with these Goa'uld,_ she thought, _a war that they've belatedly realised they cannot fight alone._

The sound of two male voices speaking nearby brought her out of her thoughts. Especially when she realised that the accents were Russian and Chinese in origin. Having been a diplomat for most of her working life – and having travelled all over the world as part of her duties – she knew most foreign accents and could sometimes even place which province of a given country they were from.

Turning in the direction the voices were coming from she spotted the Russian and Chinese delegates sitting in comfortable chairs talking. They were both speaking in Russian but she'd long ago learned to understand and speak it along with Chinese, Japanese, Spanish and French. She had a good idea what they would be talking about and carefully began to listen to the discussion.

"….how long do you think they've been keeping this secret," the Chinese ambassador was saying to his Russian counterpart.

"I have no idea," the Russian replied. "What interests me is why they've decided to tell us now. And what do they want from us in return for telling us.

"Resources probably if what we were told by the President were true then the scale of this Stargate is… I'm not sure how to describe it."

"It is mind blowing in its implications and sheer scope," the Russian agreed before noticing Elizabeth's presence. "Doctor Weir why don't you join us, we've been discussing the little revelation your government dumped on us today."

"Indeed," the Chinese ambassador agreed. "I have to admit that the whole thing is…"

"… a little hard to believe," Elizabeth replied in fluent Russian as she joined the other two diplomats and ran a hand through her thick black hair. "I can imagine. I know I didn't believe the whole thing when I was briefed before the meeting. The idea that there is a device buried in Cheyenne Mountain that can transport someone instantly to another planet is like something out of science fiction."

The Russian – Alexander Parsilov chuckled. "That is an understatement," he commented. "Though I do have to wonder how long your government has known about this Stargate? As I recall there was a 'Stargate' Project during the Cold War. Was it really about using psychics to spy on my government or was it really about using this portal to travel to other stars."

"I very much doubt it was about the gate ambassador as your own government had similar psychic programs but I admit to having wondered the same thing," Elizabeth admitted. "I would not be at all surprised to find out that the government and the Air Force has operated this Stargate behind the backs of both our own people at the entire world for years. There are after all quite a few in our military and political systems who definitely wouldn't mind carrying our history of manifest destiny out to the stars and wouldn't care who they stepped on to do it."

"So you see why we are concerned?" the Chinese ambassador – Elizabeth could never remember the man's name – asked.

"Yes I can. Though I do have some hope that I'll be proved wrong that they haven't known about this Stargate for long," she replied. "The fact that they've told the whole Security Council and NATO seems to indicate that there are at least some in our political, intelligence and military circles who've realised that the Stargate belongs to all of humanity and not any one nation. We all share the risks that come with using it so we should all share the benefits."

"But will we," Alexander asked. "If we lend the United States our support and resources for this venture how can we be sure they'll play fair?"

"I can't answer that question I wish I could," Elizabeth admitted. "All I know is that that question and others will be something for our leaders to discuss and sort out among themselves. Certainly the three of us sitting here talking cannot do it."

"Very true, I do hope that our respective governments can come to some equitable arrangement regarding this Stargate. It would be a pity if they do not as the consequences could be ah… _unpleasant_ to say the least," Alexander commented stressing the word unpleasant and shivering slightly a move matched by both the Chinese ambassador and Elizabeth.

Though the Cold War was long over they were all fully aware that there were still many hardline anti-American sentiments present in the Russian government and military hierarchy. Decades of antagonism and propaganda that the other guys were wrong, were the enemy wasn't something that was going to vanish overnight. The last thing anyone wanted would be for those hardliners – moulded by the Soviet system – to use perceived heavy handedness on the behalf of the US regarding the Stargate as a rallying point to possibly overthrow the current government of Boris Yeltsin and install a new, hardline Sovietesque regime in Moscow. Such a move at best could lead to the start of a second Cold War and at worst a Third World War.

"We must make sure that doesn't happen," Elizabeth said breaking the silence that had descended on them.

"Indeed," Alexander replied. "You have worked for and championed the cause of peace throughout your career Doctor Weir, can we count on you to help us ensure that every nation on this planet gets a fair deal regarding the 'gate?"

"Yes as we've said the 'gate belongs to everyone on this planet it is in no ones interest to have exclusive control over it."

"Then let us discuss how we proceed with this. No doubt our governments will want our counsel on this matter since we were all present. Let us work out exactly what we are going to advise them."

"We shouldn't do that here though," Elizabeth commented. "Lets go to my office. We can discuss the matter more privately there I might even be able to convince the US, British and French council members to join us."

"Then I suggest you go see them, we will wait for you at your office," the Chinese ambassador said calmly.

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, stood up and left to go and find the representatives of the other three permanent Security Council members. The Russian and Chinese ambassadors watched her go then turned back to each other.

"Do you think she'll be able to convince the other three to join us so we can discuss how to deal with sharing the responsibility for this Stargate?" the Chinese ambassador asked.

"Probably she is a very accomplished diplomat who genuinely believes in the cause of peace," Alexander replied. "But if she doesn't or if we cannot reach an agreement then our governments should work out a back up plan just in case the US tries to run roughshod over us, our opinions and our people."

"Agreed."

* * *

**PB2-908 'Heliopolis' **

His last month on the world that had become his lonely home was deeply strange for Ernest. He was initially joined through the Stargate by four people. The first was young LRI archeologist by the name of Dr Robert Rothman, who he would spend most of his time with in the Meeting Room and showing him around the Castle. Second was a Captain Dr Vera Pickett, an Army medical doctor carrying two very large duffel bags in each hand and a backpack, which she collectively called the 'Mother of all Medkits'. She was very easy on the eyes and Ernest wondered if his sense of beauty was skewed by the fact that she was first 'real' woman he'd seen in fifty years. She was there not only to look after the SG team medically but also to give him a full medical workup and immunization regimen. The third member of the team was a combat engineer, a stoic man by the name of 1st Lieutenant Jordan Mills who came through with surveying equipment, ostensibly to map the structure of the castle. The last man to join them was a middle-aged military man, carrying a large plastic case, in addition to what could only be a matt black, boxy looking automatic battle rifle.

The man had _whooped_ as he came through the Stargate, "That never gets old." He ambled towards Ernest and stuck out a hand. "Colonel Jack O'Neill."

"N-nice to meet you," Ernest blinked as he shook the man's hand.

"It's an _honor_to meet you," the Colonel nodded seriously. "Anyone with the guts to step through that," he jerked a thumb to the Stargate, "without even getting a look at what on the other side. Well, let's just say that you've got one up on me."

As it turned out the Colonel was there officially as the team's commander, but in actual fact spent most of his time outside at night, with a telescope he assembled out of the large plastic case and a book filled with starcharts and a small device called a 'Calculator' that could do complex math and logarithms without the need for huge reference books or tables. Ernest marveled at the small device and the Colonel happily taught him how to use it.

It was barely a week since the SG team had arrived when Lieutenant Mills delivered bad news. Colonel O'Neill called a meeting to be held near the MALC during the scheduled dial-in from Earth.

General Downing appeared on the screen, "Colonel, how are things today on Heliopolis?"

"We're all fine, sir. But there's been a development here."

"Colonel?"

"This castle we're in, it's structurally on its last legs, General. Lieutenant…"

"Thank you, sir," nodded Mills. "General, this castle is currently perching on the edge of seaside cliff that's being naturally eroded away. Forty six percent of this castle is being supported by nothing but air, and from the geology of the cliff face it looks like seasonal storms batters this place."

"Yes," Ernest confirmed with a nod. "They're about average strength in comparison to Atlantic Hurricanes but regular as clockwork."

"In that case," Mills paused thoughtfully. "I doubt that this place can survive another one."

"Understood Lieutenant," General Downing nodded. "Doctor Littlefield, when is the storm season due?"

"Oh, about sixty or seventy local days from now."

"Is there anything that can be done for the Castle?" Dr Rothman asked plaintively.

Mills shook his head grimly. "If the erosion underneath had only been twenty percent or less, then we could have introduced plants and structural bracing to firm up the Cliffside, but it's too late."

"All right," Downing looked thoughtful. "What's the minimum equipment and men you need to move the Stargate out of the Castle? Not to mention that Repository and other items."

"I'd suppose with first and second squad of my Engineer company, their cutting and lift equipment, and about two modular segments of a heavy transport system it could be done."

"Expect them to arrive at our next dial in."

Colonel O'Neill threw a salute at the MALC, "Thank you, General." The Gate abruptly shut down. "Well, you heard it people, we're gonna have lots of company. Rothman, better get a move on, there's a ticker on this place staying intact."

When the Gate next activated a full two dozen men in BDUs came through laden with heavy backpacks, power tools and also two odd four wheeled flat 'cars' painted in red that Ernest had never seen the like of before. They were driven by remote and the thick wheels could seemingly angle themselves to whatever setting needed. They would all be linked together to form an aggregate square that the Stargate could either be laid down on. It could easily carry the sixty four thousand pound Gate. Ernest was still trying to get his head around that figure.

Of course, it wasn't as simple as just cutting the Stargate out of the floor that could've been within an hour. The rather large problem was that the Gate was too big to fit through the doors and corridors. It would take nearly four days alone of interior and exterior surveys before the engineers even began planning where to cut and enlarge doorways, and break down walls, a task even more complicated with the poor overall structural condition of the Castle.

This left Ernest wondering how on Earth the original builders had gotten the Stargate in there in the first place.

"Either lowered it down via a VTOL...sorry, vertical take off and landing craft, when the place was half finished, or teleported it in," Lt Mills explained. "I don't see that system here, but it could've been taken away." Teleported. That the technology actually existed shouldn't have surprised Ernest, but it still left him with a feeling that somebody was pulling on a carpet underneath his feet.

For two weeks the Castle echoed with the sharp grinding of power tools and portable electric generators. Ernest was issued with a helmet he was now to wear at all times, wrap around glasses to protect his eyes and even ear plugs. He was politely requested to avoid the work areas as much as possible though. It was rather boring after all, so he had no desire to wander through those areas. His work with the excitable Dr Rothman in the Meeting Room kept him more than busy.

It was only when the Stargate was carefully lowered onto the transport modules that he had any reason to don the protective gear, and to watch with fascination as the four modules moved with perfect precision at a snail's pace though the Castle. They could go faster, but with the structural problems they were carefully watching and listening for any sign that the floors beneath the Gate would give way. The engineers had had to install structural bracing underneath some floors and they were particularly weary in those areas. Thankfully, despite some creaking and groaning on the way that had their hearts in their throats, the Stargate slowly moved out of the Castle to see daylight for the first time in eons.

The Gate would remain on the modules for the foreseeable future until a new more stable home could be built for it. It was secured in an upright position and the broken DHD placed next to it for the time when the Tollans could take a look at it. That there was such an advanced _human_ civilization amongst the stars was still something that Ernest struggled to swallow. Oh, he could see aliens playing Johnny Appleseed with primitive humanity amongst the stars, but what had made the Tollans so much more advanced than Earth? What in their history had allowed them to leap ahead?

"They never really had need for a Renaissance in their history," Dr Rothman explained as he stood next to Ernest looking up at the sky and waiting for the Tollan support craft that would descend from the empty void around Heliopolis where their ship was in orbit. "As far as we can tell from what they've shared with us, they've always had basic scientific reasoning as far back as they can remember. Oh, they had their initial superstitions and a decidedly less bloody form of the Mayan religion but it faded out completely as their science advanced in strength."

"So there was never any religious suppression of new thought and ideas," Ernest nodded. You couldn't be a scientist and not know the story of Galileo.

"Exactly, there's also the fact that their homeworld's relative geological instability put some considerable environmental pressures on them to develop structural and material technologies to ameliorate that. I know that countries like Japan are going to be willing to sell an arm and a leg to be able to collaborate with their architects and structural engineers. Then their access to Gravicite, that new super-steel element of theirs and the vast resources of space are just icing on the cake."

Colonel O'Neill pointed up into the sky, "There they are."

Ernest squinted into the sky with his new pair of thin rimmed glasses that had been gifted to him after Dr Pickett had given him an eye exam. There was a flicker of sunlight glinting off a shiny reflective surface. It was approaching very fast. There was no sound as the shape grew into something recognizable.

Elegant was the first word that entered his mind as he saw it. The craft was contoured like someone had taken a basic oval shape, increased its length and then expanded it into three dimensions with no sharp angles anywhere to mar its perfect smoothness. Even its windows blended perfectly into the structure. It sliced through the air very efficiently and the only sound of its approach that reached his ears was a low thrumming that only became apparent once it was about land a mere hundred feet away. It didn't even lower landing gear, just hovered a few inches off the ground as the side of the craft opened up to extend a walkway onto the soil of Heliopolis.

A tall man walked out, wearing a white jumpsuit that had odd metallic parts affixed at various points on the suit, most of which were on his arms, though there were two pieces of metal affixed to where his belt was and one on his chest. Ernest noticed that some of them were glowing and flickering with different colors of light as the man walked closer.

"Colonel O'Neill?" the man spoke in crisp, almost flat, unaccented English.

"Right here," the Air Force officer waved initially but quickly gave an awkward bow.

"Pleasure to meet you, I am Helis Chel. I am what you would call a 'Captain' of the Tollan starship above us. I've been directed to convey you and your men to Earth as well as restore dialing capability to the planet's Stargate."

"Thank you," O'Neill nodded.

Ernest coughed. "I'm sorry to interrupt. If you can restore the DHD why don't you just do that and we can Gate home?"

Helis bowed again before replying. "An honor to meet you, Dr Littlefield. In answer, despite our advanced science, the Tollan can't 'restore' an _original_ Stargate Controller. That technology is something we can't match as yet, and like Earth, we can only create a Controller using our own technology that pales in comparison to the capabilities of the original. A Tollan engineer will simply install a basic Tollan mini-Fusion generator paired with a Dialing Computer made by Area 51 on Abydos.

"In addition, my ship is carrying numerous amounts of Gravicite and other elemental ores that have been mined on Abydos. All of which will be needed on Earth. So it was thought that it would be fitting for you, Colonel O'Neill and the rest to embark on your first hyperspace journey."

Colonel O'Neill grinned widely and rested a companionable hand on Ernest's shoulder. "I'm sure I can convince the good Captain here to take us on a tour of our solar system even. Just think we'll be the first to see it with our own eyes and not some robot probe mounting a camera."

Helis cracked a smile at that point, "That is easily arranged."

Ernest took a deep breath and struggled to master himself. The sheer awe at the mere thought was threatening to overwhelm him. It was a dream. A dream that he had barely believed possible in 1945, now it would be reality.

He clapped his hands together and smiled. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

* * *

**Mysterious Artifact unearthed in Egypt!  
**By Howard Gusat, ZNN Science Watch

Watch out history fans, a new discovery in Egypt may just rewrite a book or two. Three days ago a team of archaeologists working for the Langford Research Institute (LRI) made a startling discovery on the Giza Plateau. LRI's founder, Catherine Langford, recently obtained permission from the Egyptian Government to return to the site of her father's 1928 dig site.

Dr. Yuri Fedorsin, LRI's Chief Communications Officer (CCO) stated in an interview regarding the company's return to the dig site, "Dr. Langford was going through quite a bit of old logs, journals, and notes from her father's original team for photographs or sketches to frame. It was purely about decoration if you can believe it, but then she stumbled on the diagrams and notes from the original dig's engineer."

The original dig, while successful in uncovering a number of unique artifacts, had not been the success originally hoped for and now Dr. Langford's daughter knows why. The original excavation was never completed to the depth called for due to machinery and labor problems which the dig's Chief Engineer never reported to the supervisor. It wasn't until Dr. Catherine Langford read the man's personal notes that this was discovered.

"While the depth of the dig may not seem terribly important, especially when discussing only a matter of a few dozen additional feet, in archaeology it can mean the difference between a roof tile and a treasure room," commented Fedorsin.

Now, nearly seventy years later proof of that statement seems to be tangible. Only hours after achieving the originally-designated level of excavation a new set of discoveries were made. Among a collection of assorted common artifacts a set of amazingly preserved cover stones hid what may well be a redefining piece of history.

"…beneath the stones a ring, approximately 6-7 meters in diameter, was discovered. It is unlike anything discovered anywhere before. The material the ring was constructed from could not be immediately identified so tests will have to be conducted at our lab facilities, and the writing on both the center cover stone and the ring itself is in a completely unknown script," announced Dr. Fedorsin yesterday in a press conference.

LRI has openly admitted to not having any ideas what this mysterious object might be, but are quick to point out its potential importance to history.

"The significance of this find is three fold. First, the unknown material used in constructing the ring. If experts of Egyptian history and archaeology can't identify it by site that means it's most likely not native to Egypt, or a totally unprecedented mixture of other materials. What is it, and why was it made or imported to make this impressive artifact?

Second, the ring itself appears, by all mundane measurements, to be a perfect circle. That's simply unheard of for any civilization using hand tools. We still have to run tests to confirm this, but if true a dozen new questions arise. Third, the unknown writing is a major point of interest. What we know of the various ancient Egyptian writing styles is very well documented, but here we find an artifact sitting buried on the Giza Plateau, with script we've never seen before; it's like saying you missed the Eiffel Tower while in Paris."

Many in the Archaeological and Egyptology communities are clamoring for a look at this mysterious ring and abuzz about what it could mean. While LRI is keeping the discovery under heavy private guard they are inviting a number of experts outside the institute to join their research efforts as consultants. Dr. Fedorsin has also promised to keep the research communities at large informed on their research and discoveries.

* * *

"We're live in 5..4..3," the tech's voice was replaced with two upheld fingers and the rest of the set fell quiet. When the technician's finger fell to a single digit it rapidly pointed toward the figure seated on the stage and camera lights around the set turned green.

"Good evening and welcome to World News Watch tonight. Glad you could join us," began well known news Anchor Greg Lancaster. The thirty-something man with reddish brown hair, soft blue eyes, and a friendly smile was a global personality and drew a fair number of viewers for his looks alone. He was one of those rare finds in the media industry: a pretty face with a brain behind it, just as his looks attracted a fair chunk of the audience so too did his keen reporting sense and history as an investigative reporter.

"Tonight's top story, as it has been for nearly two weeks now, is about the 'Stargate' discovery. We've been following the story since the Langford Research Institute announced the discovery and two days ago we broadcast live from the Institute's latest press conference. It's been a wild story since the beginning and now it's looking to be worthy of a movie script."

Elsewhere in the studio various crew insured that images appeared on the broadcast as appropriate. A picture of the "Stargate" labeled Stargate Discovery Watch had first appeared, followed soon by the Langord Research Institute's logo of an Egyptian "Eye of Ra" behind the letters LRI. Camera angles shifted as necessary and other technicians prepared to replay footage from a UN press conference recorded hours earlier.

"In a startling move the UN announced today that it would be assigning a special multi-national commission to investigate LRI's claims and verify their research. Here's a clip from that press conference."

The broadcast image changed from the trendy news rooms setting with Greg's presence to a nondescript room filled with reporters and cameras and the UN seal on the wall behind a podium. Standing at the podium an elder gentleman spoke with a distinctly English accent while camera flashes filled the room. It was clear that the clip being shown started sometime after the opening of the man's statement.

"Let me be clear; the Langford Research Institute is well respected and we have no reason to believe that this is a hoax. However, we cannot sit back and simply take their word on the matter. The discovery of this 'Stargate' has potential global implications and must be handled with the utmost scrutiny. The commission will review all data, the artifact itself, and the ongoing research to verify the claims made thus far. Should they prove true, and I will say we have no reason to believe they will not, then the commission will report back to the UN and as a global community we will decide how best to proceed."

As questions began to breakout among the reporters the clip ended and the broadcast returned to the amused face of the show's anchor.

"That was Sir Jeffery Wilstrom acting as a spokesman for the commission. Some have questioned his involvement in this commission as his family apparently has had longstanding ties to the Langfords. The UN has dismissed those concerns stating that the connection would have little impact on the investigation. Joining Wilstrom will be representatives from the US, Germany, Australia, Russia, China, Japan, and France. They expect to have an initial report within a week."

Shifting in his seat and shuffling the papers before him Greg continued into the next story of the night.

* * *

On July 21st 1969 an estimated 500 million people worldwide watched as the first human, Neil Armstrong, set foot on Earth's moon. It was an event that stirred that hearts and minds of the world and heralded countless possible futures among the stars. Despite five additional human landings on the moon most people felt a sense of unfulfilled promise with space travel in general. Indeed, most people had begun to feel the expense of space travel and research to be a waste.

That had all changed one week ago.

The world had watched as the first unmanned crafted was sent through the "Stargate" to an alien world far outside Earth's solar system. Onsite, impartial, and in two cases fairly hostile, experts verified there was no trickery involved and that the images being sent back were real. Earth, as far as the general population was concerned, was getting its first look at a world other than its own. Worldwide the backbone of the global telecommunications infrastructure was strained almost to the breaking point as people called, emailed, chatted, or otherwise contacted friends and loved ones. Thirty-eight minutes of what otherwise would have been the most boring footage every shown captivated an entire world.

Now, with a week to prepare the companies and governments which maintained the global communications networks were ready for what was sure to be an even greater strain. Today the world would watch as the first humans stepped through the "Stargate" to the alien world. The group of six men and four women from an assortment of demographics, but all ridiculously qualified, would literally have the eyes of nearly the entire world on them as they stepped through the horizon of the now immensely popularized wormhole.

* * *

**Mathews Residence  
Brownsboro, TX USA**

It was a rare occasion that the Mathews family sat down together in front of the old 27' Sears TV in their small living room. Thomas and Sandy rarely had time between their jobs and raising two children, and the children themselves far preferred to be outdoors than sitting in the small, stuffy, house on most days. However, Thomas and Sandy could both remember their childhood and the excitement of watching the Moon Landing on TV; they wanted their children to experience this generation's equivalent.

The Mathews, like most of the people in the small East Texas town, were a fairly practical people. They had concerns enough with the normal every-day issues of life that most news from the wider world was only spared a moment's thought. It was perhaps one of those amusing quirks of fate that had seen their youngest son, Trey, so captured by the earliest reports of the Stargate Discovery and thus had the entire family closely follow the amazing story as it lead to this day.

Trey himself sat Indian style and almost perfectly still on the floor before the TV. Despite all efforts by his mother or father he had been sitting, watching, and waiting since he gave up on the pretense of sleep at 5am. The first manned mission through the Stargate was something he hadn't been able to stop thinking about since it was confirmed. The twelve year old had watched the last broadcast, enraptured by the images broadcast of the alien world, but this…this would be the defining moment in his life even if he didn't recognize it as such.

When his parents first let him watch Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade with his older brother he had, like all children, immediately wanted to become an Archaeologist. His parents had humored him and encouraged him, in very non-specific or binding ways, despite the weeks he spent digging holes everywhere searching for unspecified artifacts. Trey had even begun reading and watching the science reports in the newspaper and on TV in search of new Archaeological discoveries and adventure. Just when his parents felt the phase was about to end the small article about a Mystery Artifact discovered in Giza was released.

Needless to say the "phase" had new life breathed into it.

Now, Trey Mathews and his family sat watching in near silence as the Stargate's inner ring began to spin. The boy's doe-brown eyes focused on the top chevron of the artifact as each of the seven symbols came to a stop beneath it and "locked in". His older brother spoke quietly to his parents seated on the couch, but Trey didn't hear a word as every sense he had was focused on the broadcast displaying a wide-angle shot of the vortex forming at the center of the gate and exploding outward.

The broadcast began to change shots between cameras in various spots as the now familiar remote control probe was sent through the Stargate first. Commentators relayed official information stating the conditions on the alien world were the same as the previous tests and safe for the Exploration Team. It was the moment of history; the ten people whose names would soon forever be etched in history slowly walked up the ramp toward the Stargate.

Commentary was provided about each member of the exploration team as the video feed swapped between face-shots of each. The twelve year old Texan drank in every word; every reference to a team member's expertise or degrees was latched onto for later consideration. When the ten explorers came to a stop only a foot from the gate the video feed once again changed to a wide-angle shot, but this time a smaller window appeared with a simultaneous broadcast from the UN General Assembly Chamber in New York.

"Good evening," began the American President, "it is with profound honor that I stand before you today to deliver the following, unanimously agreed upon, message: Go forward brave explorers! You take with you the eyes and ears of a planet into the great unknown; you blaze before you a trail not for one nation, but for all nations. Good Luck, and God Speed."

In that moment the extra window on the broadcast vanished and the ten humans of Earth stepped through the Stargate.

It was a moment that changed the world forever, but for one twelve year old in a small town in Texas it defined his future. Trey Mathews swore then and there he would one day travel through the Stargate no matter what it took.


	7. Chapter 7: Slices of Time

_**Chapter Seven: Slices of Time**_

**Authors Note: Some codex entries in the following chapter refers to future events in the story. Thanks to _Durabys_ for his contribution to this chapter.**

_"It is with great pleasure that we announce today that we have made contact with the first intelligent life outside our own solar system. And that life is human. On a planet called Abydos there are approximately fifteen thousand human beings, which initial genetic testing has shown to descend from North African and Middle Eastern stock. They speak a precursor language to Ancient Egyptian and there mere presence shows that the Stargate was indeed in use on our world long before the ancient Egyptian Dynasties as we knew it emerged in its own right. Explorers even found a near pristine pyramid on the Abydonian world. __Archaeologists__ are already working to puzzle the timeline together..._

_Excerpt from a statement by Spokesman for the International Stargate Council (ISC)_

* * *

**Tollan Starship Chunda **

**En route to Earth**

He had once before been in such luxury that he considered it above his station. His father had been one of the rare individuals to come through the Great Depression with a modicum of wealth intact, having diversified into precious metals in a stroke of luck before the stock market crashed. Though Ernest's father had been forevermore frugal with the family wealth, they'd had on occasion indulged themselves by going on holidays and staying in rather expensive hotels. Then the War came and Ernest's intellect had been considered too valuable to throw away into the front lines against the Japanese or the Nazis, he'd been assigned to study the Stargate and he had never gone on another luxury holiday.

The accommodations on board the Tollan _star_ship put everything he'd ever experienced on Earth in terms of luxury to shame. His quarters had more square footage than a First class suite in those days. The bed seemed to mold itself to his body perfectly and adjust itself in that balance between hardness and softness that he needed. He would be awoken each relative morning by an abrupt chime that sounded throughout the ship and then his suites 'computer' would in an unfailingly polite tone ask what he wanted for breakfast. It was a daily struggle to come to an agreement with the blasted machine, since Tollan food and dishes were distinctly different from anything he was used to.

The shower was a cubical machine that not only sprayed water from above, but also from the sides, with heads that aimed themselves to hit you perfectly. Ernest had fun trying to dodge, but the nozzles would always compensate and follow him. He had initially dressed in the SGC jumpsuits for the first few days of the voyage, but once the function was revealed to him, he worked with the computer to produce an outfit that felt familiar – striped white shirt, brown trousers and black shoes, though the latter was something made not out of leather, but rather high tech durable lightweight materials with names that he'd need both Tollan language and a Tollan science degree to understand. The computer apologized but Earth scientific jargon had yet to be programmed and translated into it.

Ernest had marveled for a while at the idea that a computer could apologize, at least until the Tollan Captain explained that it was just a politeness protocol programmed into it, and that while the computer was 'smart', only in that it had complex decision trees, it was by no means a 'sentient' or AI. That it was possible to have such things baffled him and he put to the back of his mind to think about much later.

His quarters also had a huge window that showed the mesmerizing view of hyperspace. It was a constantly shifting miasma of blues, purples and whites that tapered itself to a vague tunnel shape. The ship was flying through the deep ether of the Universe at an effective speed thousands of times that of light. Even at this fantastic speed it would take weeks to get back to Sol. It disappointed him somewhat that he couldn't see the 'real' universe from hyperspace. The views would've been spectacular.

Colonel O'Neill would join him each day after having seen to the SGC personnel, which wasn't exactly a full time job, and they would wander the ship curiously to see the minutiae of life aboard a starship, whilst they talked about fifty years of history that Ernest had missed. This was aided by a laptop computer which had a database of _Life_ and _Time_ Magazines, not to mention the latest Encyclopedia Britannica.

Ernest felt both amazement and disappointment warring within him as he browsed through the headlines of yesteryears gone by. Warfare on the scale of the World Wars had largely been put behind by Earth but in its place were 'minor' proxy conflicts. For forty years the ideologies of democracy and communism and their adherents had clashed, first in Korea, then Vietnam, Afghanistan and in Southern Africa. O'Neill had even admitted that those were only the 'open conflicts' and there had been a Shadow War fought between the two blocs Intel Agencies and Special Forces, which he had been a participant in. Then if that wasn't enough even when Soviet Union collapsed, there was the War in the Persian Gulf, fought mostly over oil, not to mention the more recent religious ethnic conflict in the Balkans.

His amazement was of course due to the sheer frenetic advancement of technology that Earth had experienced, and it was only slated to get faster with the influx of new discoveries and resources coming through the Stargate. Then there were the weird trends American and world culture had taken. Women showed a lot more skin than he was used to, the music was utterly bizarre - though he was partial to a few of the Beatles songs - and the less said about fashion the better**, **especially the eighties hairstyles and clothes.

"Ernest."

"Come in."

The door to his quarters opened and Colonel O'Neill was framed in the doorway. "Good morning."

"Morning, Colonel."

"We're scheduled to come out of Hyperspace in roughly two hours. The Captain's suggested we view it from the Observation Deck."

"Finally," Ernest sighed. "There's only so much I can stand of history, getting my head shrinked and board games."

"I hear ya," O'Neill nodded. Tollan entertainment and pastimes was not really something that they could properly do or understand. They were either too complex or because of the different culture, something they had no context to appreciate. So the SGC personnel had asked for some homebrew games to be 'nanofabbed', and they whiled away the journey with Chess, Go, Cards, Darts and Table tennis. "I just also want to show you something before we go," O'Neill entered and picked up the laptop, switching it on and fiddling with the keys for a moment.

"There's someone who wished to talk to you while on the planet, but - we didn't want to shock you more than absolutely necessary. Captain Pickett has given the all clear for this. There is a video message on here from Catherine."

Ernest felt that weird sickening feeling of surprise when you take a step down a staircase in darkness, thinking it was the last one before the landing, but it turns out there is one more.

"Catherine? The – my fiancé? She's still alive?"

"Yes, in fact she is one of the primary reasons Earth figured out the Stargate. She's head of LRI or Langford Research Institute, they handle all the non-technical sciences of the SGC." Ernest tried to wrap his head around that, staring at the waiting laptop screen. "Press Enter, when you're ready. I'll be back when it's time."

Ernest found himself alone in his quarters and his mind turned to the subject that was quite painful. Of course, he had spoken about his 'illusionary' Catherine to Captain Pickett. She had declared that it was quite a natural healthy mechanism for coping with such a stressful situation, and that as long as illusion Catherine stayed gone it was okay. The topic of the _real_ Catherine had never come up and he now saw in retrospect that Pickett had carefully steered away from it in their sessions.

Had she stayed faithful? Of course not. Missing for fifty years on an alien planet, probably written off for dead. She had probably found love, married, had children - she would be seventy odd years old now. Yet here was a message from her right in front of him.

He moved his finger to the Enter key, hovering over it for a brief moment, before tapping it. The face that appeared on the screen was that of a sadly smiling old woman with short silver hair, but it was the familiar eyes set in that visage that convinced him that this was indeed his old love.

"Hello Ernest…"

* * *

**Tollan**  
**Eight months into Evacuation**

"Wake up, wake up, dear."

Ejani blearily opened her eyes and moaned, pulling the pillows over her head. She didn't want to get up.

"Dear we have to leave today, remember?"

Ejani pulled away the pillow from her head and opened her eyes. Her mother was seated on the bed smiling softly and lovingly. She was dressed in clothes clearly meant for traveling, a one piece suit with the special places where the devices that all adults wore could be put on. Ejani so wished she could have to them too, it wasn't fair. She only had her own Thought Interface and had gotten it when she was six. Now she was ten and still had another five years to go before she could get her next device, which would allow her access to the information network.

"Yes mother," Ejani sighed and flung the covers off. This allowed her mom to appropriate her for a kiss on the forehead and a hug. She basked in the soft warmth of the hug before being released to head for the house refresher.

As she was bathed by the water of the auto cleaner she realized that this would be the last time this morning ritual would happen. The portable houses on Abydos would not have them. _Stupid Seritans!_ she thought. Why had they been so stupid? Whose bright idea had it been to take the Negative Flux Generator, set it to overload and throw it at someone else on the same planet? Idiots. Now she and everyone else had to leave their home planet.

She emerged from the refreshing room and quickly climbed into similar traveling clothes as her mother, except in a muted beige color. The smart fabric of the suit easily adjusted itself to a perfect comfortable fit. Ejani's last task was to put her Thought Transcriber onto her left forearm and just like that she was ready. Any luggage or critical irreplaceable possessions had already been packed up and sent from the house to the Evacuation Train yesterday. If all went well on the other side, she and her mother would simply move into their portable home after the trip on the train, with all their possession already inside.

Ejani entered the main room of their house and was suddenly struggling to keep her balance as the house shuddered from a tremor. Her mother was at her side in an instant, grabbing her hand to help.

"The transport will be here soon."

The tremor subsided as they neared the main door, but she didn't like the sounds the house was making. They both emerged into the open outside the house. Their garden, which had been so green, perfect and full of life, was now a sodden, flooded mess, the trees were stripped of their leaves and some cases had been uprooted completely by a super-storm that had swept over a month ago. Thankfully the drainage of the garden was good enough that the water only just reached over the toes of their boots.

They stopped at the designated landing pad for any hovercraft. Their home was not inside any city proper, but in a cluster community who preferred to live within arm's reach of nature. In the distance to one side she saw another broiling storm flashing with lightning on a near continuous basis.

"Uh, mother how soon is soon?"

Mom touched her hand to her Network device before saying, "Estimate six minutes, dear."

Ejani nodded in relief before turning back to the home she had grown up in. That it would be eventually gone, destroyed by the super-quakes that the scientists were predicting would occur in another month at least, filled her heart with sadness and it hurt. "Why can't we save our planet, mom?"

She smiled, putting a comforting hand on her daughter's small shoulder, "Technologically, we can do it dear, but it's completely impractical. The solution would take longer to build than our planet has left and it would take too many resources."

Ejani grumbled a bit, but accepted her mother's judgment. It turned out they only had to wait four minutes for the large hovercraft. It appeared in the distance and swooped down towards their position, homing in on the landing pad signal. It came to a stop above the pad with the characteristic whining sound. Both Ejani and her mother splashed through the water towards the waiting hovercraft, which was near filled to the brim with other people on their way to the Stargate. It seemed they were the last of the community to have been picked up.

Her mother pushed her in to go first and then squirmed in herself with more difficulty in the press of people. The instant the doors were closed again, the craft was off like a shot, the ground falling away into the distance way below them. Everyone stumbled into each other as the momentum dampeners of the hovercraft lagged a bit due to all the people in it.

It was difficult but she managed to squirm to a window. The shuttle was still climbing and from the angle it was taking, it was going to go all the way into space. It was just too dangerous to fly in the turbulent atmosphere. Ejani looked sadly at the vast curve of Tollan that soon filled the window. It was so big, and yet it was slowly being destroyed by something even bigger. Ejani had hated the fact that she was small and often wished she was grown up, now she felt positively microscopic. She moved away from the window as quickly as she could, back to her mother, trying not to cry. The tears fell but at least she wasn't sobbing loudly.

She was in her mother's embrace and for a brief moment she felt comforted and safe again. She lost track of how much time passed as she just kept shedding tears in that embrace. There was a sudden thump that sent her young heart shooting up in her throat. Her gasp of fright and the trembling in her limbs wasn't missed by her mother.

"We just landed dear relax," her mother soothed by rubbing her back.

There was a soft hiss of escaping air as the shuttle doors opened and all the passengers spilled out. Ejani's hand was clutched tightly by her mother as they emerged onto the huge main platform where the train was patiently waiting. She had seen it on Tollan news media but when her eyes finally saw the train itself, it hit her again just how long it was. It was also apparent that it hadn't been made by Tollan hands. It was ugly in appearance, and some segments were painted different colors with Earth lettering stenciled on the sides. The doors that allowed access to it were almost half the length of each segment and they opened upwards.

Soon she and her mother were channeled into a row by the numerous officials that also spanned the entire length of the train. They all had Stun weapons and were very tall, with scary looking faces. The train was filled completely before she and her mother could get on.

The doors hissed closed, and yet more officials each examined the segment of the train they were responsible for. Finally with some unseen signal they stepped away and a warning signal resounded up and down the gigantic platform. Ejani couldn't see the Stargate from where she was but it would probably be busy establishing the sub-dimensional tunnel. The train began to loudly hum and it accelerated from zero to an instant relative high speed and turned into a blur of passing color.

It's passing generated substantial wind and she now understood why everyone was standing a rather long distance away from the edge of the platform. It was startling when the end of the train passed by them. Soon she was bouncing on her feet impatiently, looking at the storms in the distance.

"The train will be back, Eja." Her mother's reassurance did little to help, especially when another tremor hit at that moment.

The armed officials tensed their hands on the Stunners as the tremor subsided. Thankfully, no one started a panic this time. Ejani had been confused when the news had come of the first near mass stampede that they had had to break up. The officials hadn't used the hand Stunners; those were only for small scale incidents and personal protection. She looked to the rather innocuous row dividers, which concealed arrays which could blanket the entire platform instantly with energy that safely dampened the human nervous system.

She heard the powerful hum and noise of the train returning in another blur before stopping. It was done quietly at first, before an ear splitting screech made her wince and cover her ears. It mercifully ended and the train opened their doors again. Mother and daughter boarded the thing that was saving the entirety of Tollan civilization. There were no seats, only overhead hand holds and bars. Ejani had to settle for holding onto her mother tightly. If she had thought that the shuttle ride had been a tight squeeze, then this was even worse. Her mother couldn't even find the space to lower the arm that was clutching the plastic hand hold.

The train was full and the doors closed again.

The hum of power was even louder within the train, and with a jerk that Ejani couldn't see it accelerated. This would be the first time that she would experience Stargate travel. Very few Tollans did as the risk of exploring was too great. Now there wouldn't be a single Tollan alive who hadn't used it.

To Ejani it was very strange. Her eyes briefly saw the plasma maw as it streaked towards her, but it was over in the blink of an eye. She had no sense of time at all it could've been years or just mere moments but she then 'saw' the subdimensional tunnel, curving this way and that, before once again she felt her arms clinging tightly around her mother. There was also now a thin film of icy water all over her that made her shiver, but there was nothing that could be done about it in the close confines.

The train stopped and the doors opened. Ejani first impression of their new temporary home was one of heat, a blast of bright sunlight and brown sand as far as the eye could see.

* * *

**Abydos**

The quiet atmosphere of the small coffee shop was a welcome relief to Jiamun as he settled himself at a table. An experimental sip of his latest exploration into Earth-based refreshment brought a smile to his usually stoic face. "I do believe I like this 'iced-latte' drink," he commented to no one in particular. Relaxing back into the seat he stared out the large window of the shop's second floor toward the towering sight of the Gateway Center. Though he couldn't see anything other than the front of the building he knew that not far behind it the trains that had already saved most of the Tollan people were still running.

His mind wandered as he sat drinking the caffeine-laden beverage. The memory of being approached by his long time friend Omoc to be among the "Teachers" to the Earth brought a smirk to his face. He, like so many others at the time had been skeptical, but grudgingly accepting, of the request; after all when the salvation of one's people is at stake it is hard to deny such a reasonable sounding exchange. The people from Earth were still a largely unknown factor at the time and many people approached to be "Teachers" had visions of archaic conditions, interrogations for advanced technology, or mind-numbing ignorance on the part of their "students".

Jiamun snorted. "Students" indeed; he had learned nearly as much from the Earth scientists as he had taught.

"Something amusing Jiamun?"

Jumping slightly at the unexpected presence, the middle-aged scientist looked up at the amused face of the very Curia member he had been thinking of. "Omoc, please…join me," he invited with a gesture toward the empty chair across the table from him.

Giving only a nod of acceptance Omoc took the offered seat and gave a moment's glance toward the same building his friend had been staring at. A moment of silence passed between the two before he turned his eyes toward studying Jaimun.

"I can see this isn't a social call. What is on your mind now old friend?"

Omoc's lips twitched with a faint hint of amusement. "The evacuation is nearly complete. The latest estimates indicate only another two weeks and all those designated to leave by Stargate will have done so."

"Amazing, that is a fair bit ahead of schedule if I recall."

"It is, but only by the original estimates of the Curia. I admit we had been somewhat skeptical as to the efficiency potential of the plan. Truthfully, we never expected to see such a success. It has been…humbling in a way."

Snorting again Jiamun gave an all-too knowing look. "I believe that is a phrase anyone who spends time around the people of Earth has been using frequently. They might not be as advanced as we are technologically, or as unified as a people, but they are impressive in their own right."

Omoc's eyes narrowed slightly and the stiffness in his posture increased. They had finally come to the point of discussion he had sought Jiamun for. "So you say. I have actually come on the behalf of the Curia to discuss the matter with you."

"Oh?"

"As the evacuation comes to a close the Curia is discussing the relocation and our future relations with Earth. Clearly, we are in their debt; they have done everything and more than they said they would. We have reciprocated, as you well know, by bringing you and the other "Teachers" here to Abydos first among our people."

"So I take it then that the Curia is seeking our input as we have had more exposure than anyone beside yourselves?"

"Correct," answered Omoc succinctly.

Jiamun leaned back in his seat taking on a thoughtful appearance. His eyes strayed once again to the Gateway Center as he considered how to give his friend a clear response.

"I will be blunt Omoc; even should the tragedy of Serita never occurred, meeting the people of Earth would still be an important turning point for our people. They are at a crossroads in their development, but where we took a path that nearly destroyed us I believe they are taking a far different one."

Omoc's rising eyebrow was all the indication Jiamun needed to clarify the statement. "We might all be human, despite a bit of genetic drift, but the people of Earth simply do not think the way we do Omoc. I am no sociologist, but even I can understand why; where we were a single culture they are many. We were able to advance beyond them simply because we were, for the most part, unified in thought and goals. The Tollan people avoided costly conflicts which delayed or, as apparently happened on Earth, outright halted progress for countless years."

"Ahh," commented Omoc with a slight nod, "I see where your thoughts are leading. Where we approach all subjects from a single view point, a cooperative one, they do not."

"Exactly. They thrive, frighteningly so, on the 'conflict' that is the hallmark of their world. Even when discussing scientific theory we have held inviolate of years they argue it amongst themselves. What is frightening about it, as I said, is what comes from even these minor conflicts. How much of their history have you learned?"

Blinking at the sudden question Omoc gave a negligent shrug. "A bit, but admittedly I have had little time for any in-depth study."

"Understandable, but you and the Curia must take the time before making any decisions. While my focus has obviously been on my field I have learned a great deal. My friend, these people went from crude machines which punched or read _holes on cards_ to save and recall information to computing stellar drift and _operating the Stargate in_ _less than fifty years_."

Jiamun could see it in Omoc's eyes at that moment: true understanding. The question of, "what could and would they do in the next hundred" didn't need to be asked. Then, suddenly Omoc's eyes widened almost comically before taking on their focused, hard, glint once again. Leaning forward in his seat Omoc's voice dropped in volume before asking, "Have you heard about the planet they have begun to explore and plan to colonize?"

Caught off guard by the apparent change of topic his friend simply shook his head in the negative. Omoc leaned back in his chair with an air of contemplation before continuing. "We sent a ship to aid in the recovery of one of their people who had been trapped on the planet for nearly fifty years. The planet's Stargate was located in a structure of undetermined age along with what they describe as a repository of knowledge. The structure was apparently the meeting place of four separate, but technologically advanced, races."

"They wish us to help them study the repository I take it?"

"They have offered a 'joint study'. I admit I was surprised that they disclosed such a discovery to us. It would have been simple to only explain their stranded citizen when requesting the aid of a ship."

Nodding Jiamun voiced his true question, "I believe I know, but what does that have to do with our previous topic?"

"If they advance as quickly and as…different from our methods as you say I fear what may come from their study of such a library of knowledge."

"Omoc," began the scientist with a distinctly reprimanding tone, "these people have literally saved our civilization asking for almost nothing in return. They have begun teaching us sciences we haven't studied or required since the extinction of most wildlife on our world. Their allies, the Abydonians, have literally handed most of their planet to us for as long as we need it simply because Earth asked them too…and is compensating them, unasked, for doing so. These are not the acts we could expect from the Seritans so to apply those fears to Earth is insulting."

Rearing back at his friend's harsh words Omoc simply nodded. His face became nearly devoid of all telling emotion, but the tired sigh that soon followed gave away his thoughts. "I was among those who voted to aid Serita. It is hard not to see looming disaster when faced with another primat…less advanced world."

"I understand my friend, but do not do Earth this disservice. Instead, believe as I do that the future hold only great things for our people and theirs so long as we do exactly as they have asked: to grow as a civilization in their own right."

* * *

…s_tatic_…

'…_with a three month study and survey of the planet on the other side of the Stargate now complete, a name has been officially ratified for it after a UN and IAU polling on the Internet – the star of the system in question is now named Therbia and the planet itself is distinguished by adding a –b suffix to the name…'_

…_static_…

'…_the LRI revealed today that it had successfully established a wormhole to yet another planet and confirming the weeks of speculation that this was possible. The Institute further revealed archeological evidence of a 'galactic address book' found with the Stargate inscribed on ancient stone tablets. These coordinates were not immediately useful as galactic shift needs to be calculated…'_

…_static…_

'…_it is clear now that Egyptologists need to go back to the drawing board. The evidence is clear. There was a civilization in Egypt around eight thousand years BC that was using the Stargate daily. A civilization that had the scientific knowledge to create artificial wormholes through the fabric of space-time, and all that goes with that…'_

…_static.._

'…_Greenpeace released a statement today that any Therbia B colonization, settlement and mining exploitation must use ecologically friendly methods and technology, no matter the initial cost. "We've screwed up our own planet enough. Therbia B's existence is a miracle and it would be a tragedy if we repeated our mistakes there."…' _

The television shut itself off with a click and Cardinal Eduardo Martinez Somalo regarded his own distorted reflection for a moment. He was not one to be overly maudlin but right now he felt every one of his seventy one years on God's Earth. 'What position do I take? How do I advise my friend?' He well remembered the years of the American Apollo Program; man had walked the heavens and set foot on the Moon. It was a near veritable miracle that it had succeeded and the promise of more to come had energized the entire planet with optimism after the tumultuous year of 1969. Unfortunately, the hurdles for the continued exploration of space had quickly dampened that naïve enthusiasm, from a fickle public, a strapped American Treasury, the war in Vietnam and to the natural dangers discovered in interplanetary space. People rather rightly wondered why such massive sums of public money should be spent to push man into the heavens when the problems of Earth still plagued him or were more important.

It was a feeling Eduardo somewhat shared. What right did they have to bring the world's ails to the virgin heavens? But, it was also equally clear that the heavens might hold the key to curing some of those ails. He sighed and put the remote down on his office desk and walked to one side of the room and knocked on the hidden door there.

"_Avanti_!"

Eduardo pushed and admitted himself into the _Ufficio di Papa_. He had to squint as usual at this time of day, from the bright sunlight streaming into the sprawling room from a bank of arched windows which also offered a stunning panorama of the sun-drenched St. Peter's Square. Eduardo never failed to appreciate the artistic beauty of the room's red marble floors surrounded by walls adorned with vivid frescoes. At the far end of the hall-like room and beyond the carved desk sat the Pope himself, dressed in his usual understated white robes that he wore as daily or traveling attire. John Paul the Second, Pope of the Catholic Church and Sovereign of the Holy See, was looking out of those massive windows with a pose and expression on his face that Eduardo knew all too well.

He came to a stop a respectful distance from the Pope and folded his hands into the voluminous sleeves of his Cardinal robes. "Your Eminence."

"Cardinal Somalo," the Pope acknowledged. "Have you reached any conclusions?"

Eduardo felt a pang in his heart, as usual at the slurring words of the Pope. How must it pain a man who was once an avid athlete and was even labeled the 'keep-fit pope' to be trapped within a failing body? The Parkinson's Disease had been diagnosed five years ago and it only promised to get worse with time.

"Eminence, the first immediate thought I had was that we should have the _Pontificia Academia Scientiarum_ establish formal ties with the LRI."

"A good idea," the Pope agreed. "I am concerned that in the furor of excitement in the new reality we face that people forget we still have problems on this world that need solving." The Pontifical Academy of Sciences was an institution that didn't aim to make a profit beyond keeping its own solvency, its task was to study the sciences as it related to epistemological problems, and promote science to help mankind, especially in the Third world countries. Eduardo could only imagine the dollar signs in the eyes of the major companies at the prospect of the scientific breakthroughs traveling the stars and distant planets offered. He knew that if things were left to themselves the rich would only get richer. Governments could not really be trusted to ensure that the material wealth of the heavens found its way to all the people of the world.

"There is also the matter of the Stargate's origins," Eduardo directed his eyes pensively towards the view of St Peters Square. "The new evidence leads credence to the notion of 'Ancient Astronauts' being on the planet predating three thousand BC. A theory that was once only the province of a derided minority now is looking at becoming accepted fact."

John Paul quirked a brief smile, "The Egyptians must be feeling rather put out. They've always had so much national pride in the Pyramids."

"Indeed, Eminence. However, with that theory comes the notion that the 'True Builders' are in fact aliens."

The Pope sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I had thought that it was a wonder that I would see such a time as having to guide the Catholic world through the notion of traveling the heavens to distant stars. Now I have to think of a course to guide us through the possibility of meeting a 'little green man'."

Eduardo couldn't help but release a stifled laugh at hearing the Pope say that. This was not a conversation he could have ever imagined having in this room. "If we meet such a being and it can say, 'I think,' to us. Then surely, Eminence, it was created by God as surely as we were."

"You speak wisely, my friend. I only wish that everyone could be as wise."

"The fundamentalists of any faith have caused problems and strife for thousands of years, Eminence. The existence of alien intelligence will be just another reason they add to their long list of things they forcefully object to, if they so choose. They will only be proving their sheer deluded arrogance. Would God create such a vast wondrous infinite Universe and only put us in it?"

John Paul smiled now. "One only needs to look at the Earth for the answer to that question. Though I wonder what religions we'll find out there. Would they have a Messiah as well?"

"It's been argued, Eminence, that one incarnation of God as Jesus Christ for the entirety of creation would not be sufficient, with some thinking that God would do so multiple times as appropriate for the capacity of any individual species to comprehend. It could even have happened simultaneously or at different points in time."

"God is almighty," John Paul said in a tone that sent shivers down Eduardo's spine, "I wouldn't be surprised if we were to find that to be case among the stars. Hmmm." The Pope narrowed his eyes pensively. "Send a summons to Superior General Kolvenbach, Cardinal Somalo."

Eduardo felt rather foolish that he had not thought of that idea, which was so obvious in retrospect. "You wish for the Society to spread its eyes and ears amongst the stars."

"Yes," the Pope nodded. "It will have to be in the wake of UN diplomats. The Society's mandate to spread Christianity actively will have to take a back seat, unless the civilization in question agrees to mutual theological discourse. Earth has enough religious strife; we _don't _need it amongst the stars as well."

"It will probably require a new breed of Soldier for Jesus," Eduardo mused. "Someone who knows how to operate a Stargate, someone who can walk into the unknown fearlessly, they must know the alien language as if it was their mother tongue and they must also be well versed in the language of science as well. Astrotheologians, in a word."

"It will take time, but it must be done, Cardinal. Go with God."

"Eminence." Eduardo bowed his head and left.

* * *

_'In breaking news today, a fifty member strong cult just north of Seattle was found having committed suicide. Ending a tense months long standoff with ATF agents who had besieged the fortified compound. The Cult leader, Seth Fargo, was not among the bodies and a state-wide manhunt is underway.' - ZNN _

* * *

**Edwards AFB**  
**California,USA**  
**Earth**

Josef Nielsen climbed out of the sedan after parking near the main hangar facility. The heat of the Antelope valley buffeted him in his loosened shirt, formal pants and leather shoes. He honestly wished he could somehow carry a portable air conditioner wherever he walked in the large adjunct facility built specifically for the X33. The flat arid landscape stippled with dark rocks and distant mountains offered a very bleak picture all around the perimeter. There were times he could imagine that it was not on Earth, but rather on another planet in some distant corner of the galaxy. He found it ironic that in such a desolate place that they were building the first re-usable craft that could fully explore and work in the solar system.

He longed to go into the hanger to see the prototype but a glance at his watch showed that he had only ten minutes to go until the meeting. He set off to the main design and office building on the western side of the facility. Josef was met by the senior engineer at the front doors.

"Director Nielson," Dr Edgar Dalton greeted as they shook hands.

"Doctor," Josef smiled genially, "how are things going?"

Dalton got an excited look on his hale face, "In a word, amazing."

"That's what I like to hear."

"This way, everyone's assembled."

They walked through the corridors and soon came to a large set of double doors, beyond which was a large amphitheater lecture room which now doubled as a conference room. All the seats were filled with project engineers, scientists and technicians. Josef smiled with a hint of nostalgia, he remembered sitting in similar seats when his predecessors had come on project inspection reviews. Back then he had only been worried about his little part of the puzzle to build; now he had the fortune of the entire company riding on his shoulders, not to mention the politics.

He walked to the dais and smiled when he saw that everything was ready for him. He so appreciated when the little details were done well, as it was those details that usually resulted in either success or failure. He switched on the microphone and tapped it. Hearing that it worked he turned to look at the room of mostly nervous yet excited faces.

"Good morning," he coughed to clear his throat, and tapped a key on the laptop on the dais. The Lockheed Martin screen saver vanished and was replaced with a CAD graphic render of the X33. It was vaguely reminiscent of the space shuttle except that the top had been shaved off, leaving it perfectly flat. The wings were practically nonexistent, just two stubby fins on the rear of the fuselage. A pair of dorsal guiders rose out of the aft section. The rest of the plane was hull, two hundred feet from front to back, no windows, nothing but hull. To the layman it probably looked about as airworthy as a brick.

"So you've had two months to digest Neophysics, you got access to the first Mass Reducer made available to the private sector, not to mention gravicite," Josef began. "Can I give good news to NASA and the Board?"

"Yes Director," Dr Dalton said from the front of his seat. "While we would certainly like to meet the minds behind it, the Mass Reducer is a literal godsend. I don't have to tell you what our number one enemy is in the aerospace industry." Laughter echoed through the room. "The Mass Reducer just killed it. Dr Hays?"

A woman stood up in the back, smoothing her skirt. "Director, our problems with the composite LH2 tank have proven insurmountable for the moment, so my team, with our weight design restriction a thing of the past, has replaced it with a durable conformal aluminum tank. This will make maintenance on it comparable to any commercial airliner."

Josef tapped on the laptop to bring up the next image, a cross-section schematic of the tank in question.

"Excellent, thank you Dr Hays. Dr Dalton, what has your calculations indicated with regards to the final weight?"

"Including any possible modular systems and cargo, two point nine million pounds."

"How much cargo can it haul into space?"

Dr Dalton grinned with satisfaction, "Thanks to the redesign, it can now lift eight hundred thousand pounds, with max dimensions of one twenty feet in length and thirty feet wide."

Josef blinked in astonishment. He thought he had understood the implications of mass reduction technology but this was…amazing. Though there was one more hurdle.

"Fuel, Delta V?"

"Total fuel capacity is comparably scaled up, but our preliminary simulations indicate that to achieve orbit will only need five percent of the fuel ordinarily needed by the space shuttle to achieve the same thing. That theoretically means we could send the damn thing anywhere within the inner solar system and come back with fuel to spare. If the MR is kept on with each engine firing then our fuel efficiency is something out of a dream. Converting some cargo space for more fuel means the outer system is also within our grasp."

"Manned flight?"

"Radiation shielding, not to mention whipple shielding for space dust and micrometeors, and full life support are all part of the redesign," another engineer spoke up. "We're looking at the X33 and its production variant being able to stay for months in space with appropriate food supplies."

"What about heat? We can't exactly have the X33 keeping its cargo doors constantly open during interplanetary trips to expose the radiator strips?"

"We've moved the conventional radiators to the upper hull," Dr Dalton explained, "and we've integrated a deployable lithium droplet radiator into the heat management systems."

Josef focused on the X33 design and noticed another interesting change that would take some doing to smooth over with just about everyone. "You've replaced the Fuel Cells with RTGs?"

"Yes Director," Dr Dalton nodded. "If we ever want the X33 to be able to spend a useful amount of time in outer solar system then we need them. I bring your attention to the next slide." Josef tapped the laptop. "These RTGs are redesigned to make use of the Gravicite BCO superconductor, the thermocouples efficiency in turning the Plutonium 238 decay into electricity is nearly seventy percent."

"That is impressive, and it would certainly ease their future crews' minds at least that they'll never practically run out of power in an emergency. But if we can make thermoelectrics so efficient with Gravicite, why can't we shunt all the waste heat through that?"

"We could, but given the fact that the supply of Gravicite is extraterrestrial, for the moment anyway, we want to minimize its use in the design as much as possible. There should be a decent lode of it somewhere in the solar system so once a proper native supply of it is flowing we could then build a heat neutral version, but that's up to the Mining industry."

"Asteroid mining," Josef nodded. "I bet anything we'll get approached by them to design Mining module for the X33."

"Sucker bet, Director."

"Have you settled on a proper name and designation for the production variant?"

"It's called the Space Utility Ship _Venture Star_, SUS100."

* * *

**Near the Dean´s Office, Faculty of Mathematics and Physics**  
**Charles University**  
**Prague, Czech Republic**

It was a beautiful late afternoon day in the park near the Dean´s Office building and Radek, now "Doctor" Radek Zelenka since this morning, was enjoying the sight, sitting in one of the public seats placed on top of the old medieval wall. This wall was in fact holding the entire elevated ground, where the main part of the Karlov city district and the Dean´s Office building of the Faculty were, from sliding south-west towards the Vltava River, which the young scientist was now enjoying the sight of and how it meandered.

He nearly hadn´t finished his doctorate due to excitement but not of the regular kind that is always present during any testing, examination or presentation. If it would be said later that he was excited for "some" time about the artifact in Giza, its´ subsequent activation and use to send people to a distant planet nearly _fifty light_ _years _away it would the understatement of the century.

A myriad of questions were racing through his mind: Who built it and how? If they could build something like that what else could they create with their understanding of nature? How did they use mathematics? What type of numerological system had they employed? What were their language and their technical and scientific terminology?

He remembered the debate he had watched on a special episode of the national talk show called "Na Plovárně" hosting the now famous Erich von Däniken with the even more famous Michio Kaku, hosted by the charismatic moderator Marek Eben.

In a part of the discussion von Däniken asked how much an alien civilization had to be advanced to begin to use such a device. Kaku smiled and said that to use the basic functions of the Stargate, as it was now called, you didn´t need to be highly advanced, which it seems was maybe the main goal of the makers of it. Perhaps that there were millions or even billions of these devices in the entire Universe used by countless alien races, which was built by a culture that, by the looks of the device itself and by the premise that it truly creates an artificial wormhole, could have been a post-scarcity and a high Kardashev level technological civilization. Spanning perhaps entire galaxies and was also capable to use the Stargate and associated physical principles in ways that they now couldn't possibly comprehend at this point of Earth's technological development.

_Imagine a civilization that solved the problem of so-called "excessive relativistic" power requirements of high energy physics due to unimaginable understanding of nature, a stable form of negative energy density matter and also how to create "non-active" hyper-velocity rotating quantum singularities to make a thirty eight minute continuous Einstein-Rosen Bridge in a package as small and compact as a Stargate_, Kaku had said. _With current projections and trends in technology and R&D prior to the discovery of the Stargate _we _could've created something similar in a hundred to two hundred years as big as a small planetoid, with the gates diameter itself of only a single sub-atomic particle and the power-requirements of an entire solar mass._

The discussions then went into the direction of the existence of other alien races that we could meet when traveling through the "Gate-system" that was created by the so-called "Builders", which quickly became the name associated with the creators of the Stargate network. Radek himself was absolutely fascinated by the Stargate and the mysterious Builders.

He was still enjoying the view when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned to the direction of the sound only to smile when he saw his long time friend, once a student as him but now assistant and Bachelor of Science at the faculty, Peter Jankowski coming up to him.

Unlike himself, a born Czech, Peter's family was from east Slovakia but he himself was a mixture of all the nationalities that once made up the First-Czechoslovak republic from before World War II. He was part Czech, part German, part Polish, part Ukrainian and part Hungarian and he was also a damn good professional mathematician that could keep pace with his theories and a talented learner of foreign languages, not as much as a professional linguist but still very good. They were a very good team.

Peter gestured with his hand if he could sit down next to him and Radek nodded and turned to watch the river again with the setting sun in the backdrop. For the first five seconds there was silence.

"I must confess, Radek, that today it was a close thing with your stage fright, but I am beginning to think, that you work better under pressure. But please, next time don't let study work idle to the last minute because of playing D&D or caring for your pigeons too much. It was nerve-wracking even for me." Peter jokingly imitates whining. "_I didn´t beg you to help me with revising old scripts_ ..."

Radek interrupted his friend by glaring mock-furiously at him. "Hear me, please. Firstly, if I haven´t revised scripts with you before your Dungeons & Dragons session, you wouldn´t have accomplished your post-gradual work that fast and as well as you did and secondly, because I don´t want to continue in this vein anymore, I will instead ask about what were you thinking about before I came. " Peter took a deep breath and turned to watch birds on a nearby tree in front of him.

"I was thinking about the Stargate and the beings that had built it and what they were capable of doing," he said calmly with a near dreamy expression on his face.

"Radek, did you hear something about the creation of a research group here in Prague and that something really big is going on. They are searching for well coordinated small groups even entire teams of people from all fields. It has something to do with new research which is beginning now, due to frequent usage of the Stargate. And yes Radek, before you ask, it is on the international level, a friend from CERN to me in an email. It is happening everywhere, very mysterious and suspicious from my point of view," Peter said with a serious voice but with a slight hint of worry leaking into it that didn´t go unnoticed.

"Hey, don´t worry man, I am an optimist, maybe we will end up in space in a galaxy far, far away on a ship capable to jump between parallel universes and would end up saving blue-skinned alien babes from xenocidal robots bent on the destruction of all organic life in the universe. " Radek said with seemingly total seriousness that made all people laugh when he was telling jokes, like now, to lighten the mood. It was sad that in English his jokes somehow always fell flat. It took just three seconds for both men to fall into absolute hysteric laughter that took a minute to end and another one to for their lungs to catch up. That joke was really random, even for him.

Afterward the two men begun to talk about more serious things than extraterrestrials and Stargates; Dungeons & Dragons or when Radek wanted to pester Peter a little, about Pigeons.

But in a small corner of Peter's mind he seriously wondered what the actual chance of them both ending in up space on a star ship, saving a beautiful alien princess from enslaving aliens, killer robots or wannabe Gods. The chance had to be smaller than Planck 's constant in quantum mechanics, no smaller than that. Peter then berated himself, for genuinely considering it even for those few seconds, before he exploded into a fit of laughter.

He really shouldn´t have overdid it with Star Trek and Captain Kirk so much lately and like Radek would say: _Find yourself a god damned girlfriend pronto_!

* * *

_"The time after the hostile first contact with the Goa'uld was announced was difficult to say the least. It was almost a worldwide reenactment of the Flying Saucer scare of the Fifties. Doomsayers were expecting Goa'uld pyramid ships to appear in the sky at any moment and reign death. Underground shelters, in another reenactment of the Cuban Missile Crisis was in vogue again. There were runs on Supermarkets as people stocked supplies and Banks had to close to prevent panic cash drains. What became known as 'Panic Marriages' had couples crowding jurist offices and churches. Not to mention the 'Panic babies' born nine months later._

_Though the special forces team had defeated and destroyed the Goa'uld ship handily and the ISC stated categorically that Earth remained safe in anonymity, and that FTL to cross the stars would take decades for the Goa'uld, it merely put the fire under control. It wasn't until the Tollan contact and their story came out, that some semblance of normality returned. However, now there were demands from the people to do something about the threat. Governments that appeared lackluster in addressing this or whom were too slow to respond to this massive political shift, quickly faced votes of no-confidence and mass demonstrations in the case of democracies, coups in the token democracies (dictatorships) and a few monarchs found themselves in exile._

_The ISC and NASA bowing under the public pressure finally revealed the new advances made in the space programs, with Lockheed Martin rolling out the X33 or Venture Star program, and the X023 or F23 Eagle. (Tap here to see the battle history of this pioneering aerospace fighter.)_

_- Excerpt from Post-Disclosure Years - Encyclopedia Britannica - 2045_

* * *

**Shooting Range 2**  
**SGC Abydos**

The punishing sun slammed down on the forty eight newly minted special operations troops of the SGC. There were men from nearly all the NATO countries, and were the elite of their respective countries special ops. They were not yet acclimated to the local conditions and to them there was just something very wrong with seeing four moons in the sky. If that hadn't been enough to induce awe then their trip on the Tollan ship from Earth to Abydos did. They were vets of the Cold War, which contrary to public knowledge, had hardly been 'Cold' from their perspective. Most had seen action in the Gulf War and then in highly classified operations in the Balkans that hopefully wouldn't see the light of day until they were either dead or so old that it wouldn't matter.

Standing in front of them was a man that all of them knew by reputation and in some cases had worked alongside. It hardly surprised them that he was the one who had had the balls to step through the Stargate, face down a galactic overlord and kill him.

Colonel Jack O'Neill held a standard M16A2 as he stood on the hundred meter mark from the distant target, a nearby table held a television which showed the close up camera feed of it. The target was a dummy of ballistics gel, which was wearing an armor plate made of a silvery gray alloy.

"All right folks, you know what we have here, what you can't see is that this M16 is loaded with the 5.56x45mm 62-grain FN SS109 ball cartridge, with steel penetrator and a lead core. It can penetrate the 3.45mm standard NATO steel plate to six hundred and forty meters."

The Colonel abruptly turned in a fluid movement, aimed in a moment and sent a shot downrange, followed by two more in a grouping spread of less than two inches. Everyone looked at the TV screen and was shocked. Not a single round had penetrated; the only sign that bullets had hit the armor at all were grooved scratches that had been cut by the shattered rounds.

"That armor is made of an alloy, a new element, what the eggheads are calling Trinium, Carbon and one percent Gravicite. This alloy is an effective hundred times lighter and stronger than steel. And as you can see, it laughs at the 5.56. That is what is protecting the Goa'uld battle trooper, who you'll get a briefing on later today from our Tollan security specialist."

Everyone looked grimly at each other, but held their questions to let the Colonel continue. He put down the M16 on the table and picked up a weapon that the Brits among the group recognized instantly, the L1A2 SLR Battle rifle.

"Again, this weapon needs no introduction. It's loaded with 150.5 grain 7.62×51mm NATO armor-piercing round."

He again sent three rounds downrange. The results were somewhat more promising, but still dismal, the body armor now had definite visible damage, but still failed to penetrate. The Colonel put down this weapon as well.

"Not looking good, is it?"

He next picked up a weapon that looked at first like another L1. But on closer examination it the differences became apparent, it had modern Picatinny rails, tritium reflex sights, slightly wider plastic magazine and it looked as if the Colonel was handling it with more ease, implying it weighed less than the old L1. The whole weapon was painted in a khaki color. "Let's try this."

He leaned forward in preparation to absorb the recoil and a loud _boom_ accompanied him sending the round on its way to the target. He didn't stop there and sent another two shots into the undamaged parts of the armor. A lot of the troopers found their ears ringing by then, but their eyes were glued to the screen, three cratered holes were now in view.

"What I just fired was SGC custom SLAPs, or hot loaded 7.62x55mm Saboted Light Armor Penetrator, firing a tungsten core penetrator. The weapon I'm using is the SGCs own version of FN FAL Battle Rifle, built right here on Abydos. It uses most of new alloys Area 51's cooked up in the last couple of years. There's a whole manual written on it that you have to study, but the bottom line is - I think you'll want to put in your earplugs – seeing is believing."

Colonel O'Neill waited for everyone to comply and raised the weapon downrange again, and proceeded to fire the remaining twenty two rounds in semi-auto into the target, which soon resembled swiss cheese. The concussion from the weapon was fierce and everyone felt the resonance in their lungs with each shot. When the Colonel was done he made sure he had everyone's attention and then promptly put his hand right on the barrel. Everyone's eyes widened as they realized he wasn't insane or a masochist, the barrel was clearly cool enough to still touch.

"As you can see, you have to fire a hell of a lot to even hope of damaging the barrel with thermal overload. You'd run out of all the ammo you can carry before you'd manage it. The inner components are also very rugged, and nearly corrosion proof. There's no telling what conditions out there in the Galaxy you'll have to fire this thing in."

He looked around at all the faces, they were all suitably impressed.

"So questions?"

"Just two. When do we get to try using those things? And what is it called?" Jack didn't see who spoke but from the accent he guessed it was probably one of the British SAS blokes. Whoever it was apparently hit the nail on the head as all the other assembled soldiers nodded and looked somewhat like kids who couldn't wait to play with their new toy.

He couldn't blame them he'd been exactly the same when he'd first been shown the new weapon.

"Not quite yet and its official designation is Z1," he answered. "There is more you need to see in this briefing. This way."

Turning away from his crowd of attentive brothers in arms Jack calmly began leading them to another part of the firing range. A few of the special ops warriors paused a moment to look longingly at the Z1 before hurrying to catch up. Jack for his part led them to a part of the range where two dummies had been set up - each was a fairly standard male model mannequin - not that different to what you would find in the window of male clothing shops but they had been subtly modified in that the torsos of each had been filled with flesh from the carcass of a pig and ballistic gel.

One mannequin was dressed in standard military Battle Dress Uniform and sported a full helmet, properly weighted backpack and helmet as well as properly weighted facsimiles of the kind of weapons that everyone present was intimately familiar with. The other was also dressed in what looked like BDU's but which had been crossed with some kind of body armour, the get up appeared sleeker and smoother, more high tech looking than normal military armour. A helmet was on top of its head and like the uniform had a very sleek hi-tech look to it in its sweeping curve that gave it a vague tear-drop shape. The front of the helmet consisted of a full face visor and an air filtration unit that projected a short way out from the front making it look like a small snout. As with the first the mannequin was carrying facsimiles of weapons, though the rifle was a Z1 and sported a backpack - though it appeared sleeker and more molded to the back of the uniform.

A table was set up nearby and on it stood a computer monitor that as with the earlier demonstration had cameras focused on the models. Sitting beside the monitor was a staff like alien weapon about two meters long, one end flared outwards like the head of a cobra and had similar patterning while the other end was bulbous and pod like. At the familiar sight of the weapon Jack gave a soft almost invisible shiver, he clearly remembered what those things could do - how they could kill with one shot and how they hit hard enough that a two hundred pound soldier would be sent flying like a toy.

With apparent calm he picked up the weapon. "This people is a Ma'tok or staff weapon and is the primary weapon used by enemy troops," he said before leveling the heavy and cumbersome staff at the first mannequin and flicking a switch approximately halfway along the length of the weapon. The bulbous end of the weapon opened with a harsh crack of energy and Jack pressed the switch to fire. With a crackling thunderous boom a bolt of yellow-white plasma shot out of weapon and crossed the distance to the model in an instant.

The effect was dramatic. As the plasma bolt impacted the torso of the mannequin there was a brilliant flash of light, smoke and flame even as the immense kinetic force picked the dummy up and sent it flying backwards trailing smoke - it flew back a good two meters before coming to rest a thin line of smoke rising from where the bolt had struck. The sickly sweet smell of burnt flesh and the acrid smell of burning, melting Kevlar filled the air as the observation camera refocused on the mannequin and from behind him Jack heard more than a few gasps of shock and horror from the hardened warriors as they saw the damage that the one blast had inflicted.

The bolt had punched right through the BDU and skin of the mannequin like a blow torch cutting through plastic leaving a hole the size of a small dinner plate blown in the dummy. The pigs flesh beneath had been cratered to a depth of several centimeters and was cracked and burnt, looking somewhat like a burger that had been left on a barbeque to long. Armour that would normally be highly resistant to anything other than armour piercing rounds had done absolutely nothing to stop the bolt of superheated material.

"As you can see," Jack said into the stunned silence. "The staff is a very formidable weapon and can cut through standard body armour like it's made of paper. If we sent you out into the galaxy wearing normal BDU's and you came across the bad guys then we would be sending you basically to your deaths - fortunately you will not be wearing standard BDU's."

Without waiting for a response he aimed the staff at the second mannequin and fired launching another blast of plasma. As with the first mannequin the blast crossed the distance between the weapon and the dummy nearly instantly impacting with the same flash of light and puff of smoke though this time there was no flame. The mannequin rocked back but unlike the first was not sent flying and as the flash of impact faded and the camera zoomed in the audience could see why.

Where the plasma bolt had impacted the dummy's armour there was a blackened smudge and some cracks but there was no crater. Instead the mannequin was intact and completely undamaged prompting a few appreciative whistles and claps.

Jack waited for it to die down before speaking. "The armour you see before you is the standard Light Explorer and Combat Uniform or LECU. The armour is primarily composed of carbon fibre mixed with a light ceramic polymer. Areas that don't need to flex easily such as the chest and back have been reinforced with additional ceramic polymer panels several millimeters thick.

"Due to the use of high tech materials in its manufacture the LECU is about twenty percent lighter than standard BDU but as you can see offers far superior protection against Goa'uld weaponry," he continued. "Now it will not make you invincible and multiple blasts from a Ma'tok staff will still kill you however when combined with the Z1 firing SLAPs it will massively increase your survivability rate.

"The helmet is composed of the same carbon fibre/ceramic polymer as the armour so if you get hit in the head you literally won't loose your head - though you might get knocked a bit senseless. It includes an air filtration system to protect you from any bacteria or viral agents that you might encounter in your travels to other worlds it will also act to protect any indigenous populations you encounter from any bugs you might bring through the gate with you. In addition the helmet is equipped with a new 'smart' glass that like reactive light glasses will automatically polarize to eliminate glare. A sophisticated digital radio system and night vision capabilities completes its features. As I understand it the boys and girls in R&D are working at reverse engineering some elements of Goa'uld helmets - particularly their ability to fold down into nothing when not needed but it will be some time before we understand enough about the technology to begin replicating it."

He paused for breath and looked at his audience who were looking at the LECU in awe and delight. He had to admit himself the new armour was impressive and he did half wish they'd had it when they'd encountered Ra here on Abydos. If they'd had this then half of his team wouldn't have been killed by Ra's guards.

"In addition, you can also look forward to the Ma'tok being taken apart and it's guts put into an ergonomic rifle for when you have long duration combat missions where it's anticipated that you won't be able to resupply via Stargate for a while. One problem with the Z1 is ammo capacity. SLAP rounds are big and you can't carry as many as with standard 5.56. So I can already tell you one of your standing orders for the future; you loot the Ma'tok from the Jaffa you kill and bring it home. Any questions," he asked.

A trooper from the Dutch Korps Commandotroepen raised a hand. "How are we going to eat off world if we have to keep the helmets on to prevent germ and viral infection in both directions?"

"SGC MREs are placed in special tubes and cartridges that can be connected to the helmet, which you can then drink; they're essentially high nutrient and energy smoothies. One of the first rules you'll learn about off world ops that the Docs and biologists practically hammered into our manual is – do NOT eat off world native food, or take off your helmet except in dire emergencies. There are no guarantees the plants and animals off world will be digestible and not end up in the best case giving you the runs or worst, making you very dead. Now wouldn't that be an embarrassing thing for me or your future commander to have to say to your family?" Jack put on a mock solemn air. "_He died eating an alien plant ma'am, I'm sorry._"

The troopers all looked at each other and silently vowed that they would rather eat a plasma bolt than go home dead in such a manner.

"More questions? No? Very well. That concludes our demonstration for now. You may return to barracks to continue settling in. This time tomorrow you will all begin training to use the new armour and weapons, along with learning a lot more off world protocols. Dismissed."

* * *

_**Early Interstellar Colonization**_

_In late 1997, Earth explorers established the first permanent civilian extra-terrestrial settlement on Therbia B, also colloquially known as 'Heliopolis'. It was little more than six prefabricated buildings holding a twelve strong survey team of scientists, engineers and cartographers with a dirt road that was initially used as a runway for a microlight survey aircraft. More buildings were added as more explorers and scientists arrived, soon becoming the size of a small hamlet, all organized under the authority of the International Stargate Council (ISC), initially using the example of how scientific settlements are organized and run on Antarctica._

_Soon however, as the map and overall survey of Therbia B became comprehensive, pressure from the most populous members of the ISC such as China and Japan on beginning colonization began to mount. Another source of pressure was from Mining concerns eager to begin exploitation of the major platinum lodes discovered on it. Further complicating the situation were countries formerly part of terrestrial colonial empires, who immediately began a campaign that the excesses and exploitation of colonialism not be repeated on an interstellar scale. Lobbying also began from environmental groups that Therbia B be developed with the utmost consideration for its environment._

_To even further add to the complexity of managing colonization was the practical and technical requirements for any population of people to successfully live off of Earth. Not to mention the political status of the colonists with regards to their country of origin and loyalty to it. No one wanted the divisions and conflicts of Earth acted out in a microcosm, nor wanted any one country to have a majority of colonists, whose initial political leanings would shape the future of Therbia._

_The ISC debated for months and finally released their first ever 'Directive'. They looked to history, especially the pioneering souls of the early West in the United States and the Great Trek of the Dutch in Southern Africa and so the first five hundred colonists were all farmers and their families, selected randomly from among the deluge of volunteers that flooded the ISC with letters, emails, and calls from all over the world. The Colony needed to become largely self-sufficient and shipping food via Stargate would tie up precious 'wormhole time' too much, especially in the case of future emergency._

_Due to this, the first years on Therbia B were like stepping into a Time Machine in some respects; horses were the primary method of personal transportation and farmers had to be very frugal with using diesel driven farming machinery. In some cases returning to the horse-drawn plow, planting and harvesting by hand when a shortage of fuel would hit. These conditions would last until the perfection of easy and compact solar powered hydrogen distilleries and storage for use in Fuel Cells. The Therbian mines on the other hand, due to their strategic importance used the majority of the fuel and solar power supply for the first five years and would much earlier see the deployment of first generation Gravicite fueled Power Generators. Communication on the Colony was achieved at first with simple handheld digital radio sets, the range of which would be boosted when construction of a tall Com tower was completed._

_The political status of Colony would come into question with the birth of the first child on Therbia, eight months after the founding. The family had sent notice through the Stargate and while rightfully proud of their new arrival, was somewhat blind to political consequences it would cause on Earth. The ISC had a fierce debate on the 'citizenship' of tiny Anna Salmeri, born to an Italian couple in the Therbian hamlet clinic. Was she 'Italian'? Was she 'Therbian'? Could there even be such a nationality?_

_This political quandary would not be resolved until Anna's second birthday. Therbia was declared an Independent Protectorate, its future political system would be determined by those permanently living there and/or born there whilst all monetary proceeds from exports would incur a Progressive Tax which would be deposited in a World Bank account in the Protectorate's name. These funds were then used on infrastructure spending on the colony. Defense in orbit and the sky would remain an ISC responsibility, though the Therbian Colony would eventually invest in their own ground security forces to supplement the colony garrison and retain primary control of the automated OWP grid._

_Therbia would also be the first new signatory of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights since the UN chartered it originally. It would also sign the new Extra-Solar Outer Space Treaty - which governed the extent to which the Colony could privately militarize its star system, during it's time as a Protectorate._

_The largest political hurdle Therbia and other future colonies had to overcome with the UN was the conditions they had to meet to shed Protectorate status and declare 'Nationhood'. Initially, colonies had to reach a population of at least three million, be fully able to support that population with no imported foodstuffs via Stargate or cargo ship, and be able to at least maintain a late 90s level of technology and infrastructure with no imports from off world, whilst two percent of the population must be professional soldiers or involved in planetary defense._

_The Colonies in turn argued that there were nations on Earth that had much smaller populations, (the Vatican and Pacific Islands like Fiji), and that many of them almost totally relied on imports. The UN argued in turn that if 'God forbid' something was to happen to Earth, the Colonies would wither on the vine if they were too reliant on Earth and imports. A Compromise was eventually reached that nationhood would apply at 1.2 million population, food imports at twenty five percent of total planetary supply, whilst the technology level and defense requirement remained the same._

-_ Excerpt from Comprehensive History - Interstellar Colonization Vol 1 _

* * *

**Minot Air Force Base**  
**North Dakota**  
**United States, Earth**

It amazed him how quickly things could change – how quickly the world could change when it had a mind to. If he had been walking on this ground a mere nine years ago, he would quickly have been apprehended and put in prison or even shot. Now, Colonel Andrei Aleksandrov, of the Russian Strategic Rocket forces was an invited guest. He was being escorted by a reedy man wearing the daily light blue USAF uniform, with the stripes of a Master Sergeant on his arms.

"Right this way sir," Burton Sparks gestured towards a walkway that led to an utterly unremarkable L-shaped single floor building, with a brightly manicured carpet of green lawns and plants surrounding it. Bright sunlight shone down onto it, reflecting a thousand tiny pinpricks of light from the water droplets gathered on the individual blades of grass. The image of life was such a dichotomy to the true, terrible purpose of the people that worked inside.

The building interior was as drab as the exterior façade, white walls, shiny grey floors and the only hint of color came from Air Force posters and various unit insignia, the most prominent of which was the 91st Missile Wing. It was rather eerie to Andrei walking through a place where he knew somewhere in Russia a strategic missile was targeted.

Sergeant Sparks stopped at a door furnished with a gold plaque – _Colonel Adren Everett, CO 91MW_ – and knocked.

"Yes!"

The Sergeant opened the door, "Colonel Aleksandrov, Sir."

"Aha, yes, come in," the jovial voice reached into the corridor.

The office Andrei entered was nothing like the rest of building. Its blue carpeted floor and brown paneled walls was rather cozy. A display case held the numerous awards the man before him had earned, while a wooden desk with a green lamp and computer dominated the centre. The man behind it was startlingly tall, with graying hair that belied the clear fact that he was still very fit and barely in his mid forties – there's was a stressful profession. Colonel Everett reached out to shake hands.

"It's good to meet you, Colonel."

Andrei tried not to wince as a spade like hand enveloped his own in a strong grip. Everett moderated his strength immediately as he sensed his opposite number's discomfort.

"And you, Colonel."

"Please have a seat," Everett gestured graciously to the empty chair in front of his desk. "Anything to drink?"

"No thanks," Andrei took the invitation to sit but kept his suitcase on his lap. The Sergeant snapped a quick salute before leaving the office and closing the door.

The two men stared at each other for a moment before Everett sighed. "You know, seeing you here in the flesh for the first time has just truly brought it home to me, my former enemy, how utterly bizarre this is."

"I can empathize, comrade," Andrei smirked. "If anyone had told me of this day and the events preceding it, I would have summoned a mental health doctor for the person in question. In any event, your KGB dossier Colonel, didn't do you justice."

"Neither did your CIA brief," Everett replied graciously in kind. "Well, you're here at last and it's about damn time - _politicians_."

"Indeed, they've been – how do you Americans say – twiddling their thumbs, over the most banal little things and treaty details while we're utterly defenseless if the Goa'uld should show up in orbit."

"And that's something we're going to change," Everett said firmly, he reached behind his desk and handed an A3 sized theoretical design plan to Andrei.

"Minuteman IV," Andrei raised both eyebrows with interest. "Only one stage, but larger than its predecessors, Mass Reducer, RCS, ImageRec targeting, rad hardened guidance computer – leaving almost – _zaebis_! - _twenty seven cubic meters of space_ for payload, rated for seventy tons throw weight."

"We need that much payload given what we're going to have to mount to make a dent in a Goa'uld capital ship."

"Are our Tollan friends sure of this?"

"They showed us one their 'shields' in action at the SGC, it's actually a specialized application of gravitational manipulation technology," Everett explained. "A ship can throw up layered walls of gravitons around itself, creating areas of extreme grav stress which repulses anything coming towards the ship, but not anything leaving the ship.

"They were obviously cagey about their tech, but confirmed how we could go about penetrating the Goa'uld versions, which are less advanced than their own."

Andrei shook his head in amazement, it really struck him now just how long the road to technological parity was, "How?"

"Both the easiest and hardest way is sheer brute kinetic force. A graviton shield must constantly be powered to be useful, and a ship only has so much power to throw into them. If we can push our Mass Reducers far enough and squeeze enough reaction mass into the missile, we could optimistically accelerate a high density nickel iron impactor to point two five C, given enough time."

Andrei's mind whirled as he tried to work the mental arithmetic, "You could fit a twenty ton projectile and... that's the equivalent energy of a hundred and thirty four _gigatons_ of TNT!"

Everett's eyes were grim, "It makes what we've been playing around with the last forty years look like firecrackers. Welcome to the _real_ Space Age my friend. In any case, there are targeting issues that needs working out; any kinetic energy weapon system effectiveness depends on how maneuverable their target is. The Tollans don't have all the gritty details on the Goa'uld as we'd like."

"Pity," Andrei sighed. "What else?"

"We're dusting off our old research on the Orion and SDI."

"Ah, bomb pumped directed energy weaponry," Andrei fiddled with his beard in thought. "The fastest and easiest to make would be the plasma howitzer variant… but wouldn't shields stop these cold as well."

"Yes, but Goa'uld capital weaponry is plasma drivers. You hit a shield with that, you're not only doing kinetic damage but thermal as well, and it disrupts the coherency of the shields in some way that's way over my head that's cumulative."

"And the advantage is that the missile with plasma warheads can stand-off from its target beyond any point defense range, unless they also have counter-missiles," Andrei narrowed his eyes, "what of x-ray laser heads?"

"Even if we could surmount the technical difficulties in creating them, the grav stress band would refract any laser to a great degree, but it would nevertheless also disrupt shield integrity, and if we could make them powerful enough or develop penetration aids..." Everett shrugged.

"You know something occurs to me, wouldn't a graviton shield refract the entire EM spectrum – so how on earth do _they_ 'see' through the shield?"

"Subspace sensors and the shield apparently only attenuates the portions of the spectrum most useful for energy weaponry and radiation shielding."

"So if I fire a 'purple' laser it'll go straight through and hit the hull?"

Everett frowned for a moment, "I don't know – perhaps, but Goa'uld hulls are very sturdy things, I'm not sure a Free Electron laser firing in that frequency will do damage efficiently."

"Just a thought," Andrei waved it off in frustration then opened his briefcase and pulled out a sheet. "This is our design."

Everett took it and laughed ruefully, "Ah yes, the good old SS-18. You're just creating a new Mod?"

"It's cheapest and quickest to implement," Andrei shrugged. "We call it the R36M3 – still can't decide on a name for it."

"I'm sure we'll think of something," he tapped his fingers on the desk, "single stage liquid propellant, Mass reducer, radar guided, RCS, throw weight of two hundred and nine tons, total payload… why the fuck were you impressed with the Minuteman IV? You have three hundred and thirty cubic meters of space for warheads and your theoretical powered range is 3 million kilometers!"

"You know the weaknesses our missiles have, Colonel."

Everett settled himself down and nodded. For all the SS-18's power it came at the cost of being extremely maintenance intensive, and the birds had to be fueled before launch – which was not a simple operation. They could also not remain fueled indefinitely – as the witches' brew that the Russians used as rocket fuel ate away at the internal fuel tanks.

"Only other problem I see is the radar guidance. The shielding will bend and refract the radar waves away from the missile receiver."

Andrei leaned back in his chair and considered the problem for a moment, "So that's why you went for ImRec… hmmm. Perhaps a properly tuned Infrared detector?"

"We also thought of that, given how big a problem heat is in space," Everett shook his head ruefully. "One of the new applications of gravicite is high efficiency thermo-electrics. Goa'uld ships can gather all their heat and convert it into electricity to pump back into their onboard systems; this makes their hull essentially invisible to IR."

"Ladar?"

"If it emits laser light at the frequencies Goa'uld shielding lets through, sure. However, we plan for the Minuteman to have subspace scanning and targeting once the SGC can make a homebrew version. That system will have our missiles targeting the unique footprint a ship's gravitic engines leaves in space-time."

Andrei's eyes boggled, "Unbelievable."

"Believe it," Everett smirked. "Now, how about I take you to the O-Club before we head off to Boeing? I can't imagine that the airline food satisfied you."

"I'd appreciate that, tovarich."

* * *

**Briefing Theatre**  
**SGC HQ, Abydos**

It felt entirely like she was walking onto a stage somewhere on Broadway. There were over a thousand seats arranged to slope before the podium, the walls were specially padded to conduct sound to all the occupants, behind her was a stage large enough to easily hold a full performance of Swan Lake. The only things that told her that this place had another purpose were the giant screen behind her and the company of men and women in military uniform seated in the front rows. This was meant to be a place where the SGC could hold briefings with huge numbers of personnel at a time.

'_Time to get this show on the road,' _Karen thought to herself. She straightened her uniform quickly as she went, and stepped up to the podium. The din of conversation between the class attendees settled immediately.

"Welcome, I am Colonel Karen Wilkinson, CO of the newly commissioned SGC 1st Military Intelligence Brigade. I was formerly in charge of the 704th US Army Military Intel, and I was there for eighteen years. So… now that my bona fides are established, let's look at yours. If you are here, then you were considered by your peers in your native militaries to be the best at what you do." Karen's smiled wryly at her audience. "That's good… so we can all safely say we can go out into the Galaxy and kick ass and take names."

"WRONG!" she snapped, her face contorted with anger. Quite a few of the class either flinched or almost jumped out of their seats at the sudden change in her demeanor. "As of this moment, we know nothing, we assume nothing, and our training and experience is worth NOTHING."

Karen snagged a remote from her podium and pushed the cue button. The digital projector came to life and displayed the familiar image of Earth from space.

"That is where our procedures, doctrine and training evolved. On Earth."

The image now began zooming out quickly to show the solar system, then still further, and further until the entire Milky Way Galaxy was displayed. The animation happened slowly to give the viewer a sense of true scale.

"This had to be hammered into me as well," Karen continued. "Space is BIG. It's vast, and there are hundreds of billions of stars in this Galaxy. Around each are potentially dozens of planets and moons. Perhaps one or two are within the golden zone from their stars which allows for the presence of liquid water – in other words the potential for life. The statistics say that there is the potential for forty nine thousand unique forms of intelligent life and/or civilizations to exist in this Galaxy. Our form of life is just one of those."

Karen looked carefully into her audience and saw with their wide open eyes and various expressions that she had nailed them.

"So given a conflict with an alien intelligence – how can we possibly hope to predict their strategic, operational and tactical thinking, when we struggle to do it properly in conflicts on Earth? The answer is, we can't. So when we're forced to fight an unknown alien race – wipe your slate clean and learn anew. Thankfully, we don't have to do this with our most immediate threat. We are fortunate that we have Colonel Jack O'Neill and his team's experiences to inform us, and the Tollans – who while isolationist apparently have their own Intel sources in the Galaxy and have had battles with the Goa'uld in the past to guide us."

She clicked the remote and the Galaxy was colored with various colors. "This is a general political map of the galaxy, the red is generally considered Goa'uld space. Remember though that the presence of the Stargate makes this map deceptive. There are Goa'uld worlds within the non-aligned sectors of the galaxy – most of these will have no capital starship support due to the distances involved. So while we could contest these worlds without fear of capital plasma cannon raining down on our heads, their garrisons are large and they have locally built aerospace power to use."

"The strategic situation in the galaxy looked something like this." A large flowchart diagram appeared. "This is the Goa'uld Hegemonic Empire, once ruled through force and superior technology by a Goa'uld who called himself Ra, and occupied the position of Supreme System Lord."

There were a few coughs and snorts in the audience.

"Yes sound ridiculous I know, but they believe it with every fiber of their beings," she declared seriously. "Below Ra is a collection of feudal System Lords, each with their own interstellar empires. Below each System Lord is yet more Goa'uld who are assigned to various essential functions to govern each empire – this can be a planetary governor, shipwrights, lower religious leaders, essentially the intellectual labor. Then on the bottom, human slaves that serve as labor and are kept that way by the false religion that the Goa'uld shove down their throats – supported by displays of advanced technology."

Karen felt a surge of anger anew at the mere thought. "Now I will turn to the Goa'uld military, you'll notice I have them placed slightly above and to the right of humans. Well, this is because their military is essentially an engineered phenotype of humanity – who call themselves, Jaffa. They reproduce like us, but were bred for two purposes, to fight and carry Goa'uld parasite young within a specialized orifice in their abdomens. Why? So the damn parasites can learn how to take us as hosts even more efficiently.

"This is not entirely an unbeneficial arrangement for the Jaffa," she shook her head ruefully. "The young parasite can keep the Jaffa in perfect health. Barring death in battle and injury, a Jaffa can expect to live out one hundred and fifty Earth years before he or she becomes too old to carry another parasite. The Jaffa are also fanatically devoted to their 'god', when or if we capture them as POWs don't expect an easy time of it getting information out of them. Now you've had your Z1 familiarization training, you've seen the Ma'tok and its capabilities. What can you deduce will their tactics be on the battlefield? Anyone?"

A hand went up, "You can't exactly shoot that thing accurately at more than fifty meters in a firefight. It's too cumbersome."

"Yes," Karen nodded at the officer. "We gave the Ma'tok to one of the best snipers we have here on Abydos. She managed a centre mass shot of one hundred and twenty meters using a prone firing position, but was unable to repeat it reliably. Add the fact that the Ma'tok can double as a staff melee weapon and this tells you the Jaffa like things up close and personal. If this was all they could throw at us then we would all be happy, but it's not. They also have a direct fire Plasma Cannon which is roughly the tactical equivalent of our Autogrenade launchers, usually mounted around high value targets or around Stargates.

"Also something that will make our lives unpleasant on the battlefield is the Death Glider. If you want to see one in the flesh, go visit Hangar 2b where the Air Force is keeping it. But for now," she clicked the remote and a 3d CGI image of the fighter in question appeared on the screen, which sprouted lines and text designating where each part was. "They carry two more powerful, aerospace versions of the Plasma Cannon, and the Goa'uld like to use it as ground support for their Jaffa. Now it seems very limited in comparison to an A10 Warthog, but they actually are made to escort these…"

A new CGI model appeared. A much larger craft that looked like a flattened teardrop, roughly thirty meters in length. "These are Goa'uld FTL-capable Bombers, SGC reporting name 'Vulture'. In Goa'uld they're called 'Al'kesh'. Their main armament is a capital class Plasma Bomb launcher, supplemented with two secondary dual Cannon turrets on the dorsal and ventral aspects. It's also graviton shielded, but luckily for us these kinds of shields don't work well in an atmosphere and the power reserves of the Vulture are smaller. Nevertheless, R&D is working on something vehicular mounted that should let Infantry take down both Glider and Vulture. But otherwise – it's best to run and find cover when you see these coming at you.

"Rounding off their military is the Goa'uld Ha'tak, SGC reporting name of 'Mothership'," the massive pyramidal shaped starship appeared on the screen. "It fulfills the roles of troop transport, carrier vessel for Glider and Vultures, and capital battleship. It mounts twenty four capital Plasma Cannon with a general effective range of fifty thousand kilometers, eighty secondary batteries that's meant to take on smaller targets like aerospace fighters and larger attack craft, as well as Point Defense. Passive defenses are graviton shields."

Everyone looked at each other with rather gloomy looks.

"Let's move to on to what supports this war machine, the Goa'uld economy. It is thankfully limited in a way that it really shouldn't be as an interstellar civilization. They don't mine in space and the tools they give their human slaves to do the work in terrestrial mines are pick and shovels at best, whilst the minor Goa'uld overseer does the planning and uses explosives to allow for deeper depths. However, given the sheer amount of planets in their domain and the number of these shallow mines they have, it gives them a distinct raw resource advantage over us at present. The economy is organized in a loose 'Gold Standard' method – with gravicite taking the place of gold – with coins representing a certain amount of the mineral traded.

"Now, getting back to the Goa'uld hierarchy – as you all know by now, Colonel O'Neill detonated a nuke in Ra's face," she clicked a button and Ra vanished from the flowchart. "All the System Lords that were below him are snapping up his empire, resources and most worryingly his superior technology. Once they're done – they'll all be eyeing each other with no more of the traditional limits that had held them back. Each will want a bigger slice of the pie.

"That's right ladies and gentlemen, we've lit a fuse to a bomb and it's gone off, all the System Lord empires are already engaged in small skirmishes on their borders, and the moment they get their improved ships on-line it's going to explode again. Now this is ordinarily a good thing, they're going to beat on each other and we should let them – but what of our descendants trapped in the crossfire? Should we leave them to their fates? Then there's that fact that the war will force the Goa'uld to look for more resources and expand their borders… and sooner or later, whether it's ten years, twenty or fifty, they'll run smack into us."

* * *

**Tollan Starship Nadura**

Standing before the view ports of the forward observation deck Narim watched the blue-white tunnel of hyperspace evaporate into a blur of black and white as the starship was flung out of subspace at speeds close to that of light. A shudder ran through the deck as the sublight engines came to life, sending a jolt of extreme deceleration forces through the ship, a jolt that the inertial dampeners weren't able to completely eliminate as the engines fought against the effects of hyperspace inertia.

After a few moments the sublight engines succeeded in their task and the deck stabilized while outside space resolved into its normal star studded darkness. Directly ahead was the planet Narim and his team had been sent to investigate. At four thousand light years south west of the galactic elliptic to Tollan and several thousand light years core ward the system was closer to the Goa'uld Empire - particularly the region claimed by the System Lord Heru'ur - than the Curia would have liked but it had been the only one found by the survey probes hurriedly launched from Tollan during the early phase of evacuation that had fit there requirements.

The planet itself was the third planet from the systems bright yellow-white star and was roughly the same mass as his peoples doomed homeworld was. However unlike Tollan this world had two moons in attendance the outermost being a third smaller than the planet and an airless rock relentlessly blasted by the stellar winds, the other half again the size of the first but possessing a thin atmosphere of argon, carbon dioxide, sulfur dioxide and hydrogen sulfide. Narim recalled from the probe data that the inner moon was rich in metals but was heavily volcanic due to it being alternatively pulled on by the gravity fields of both the outer moon and the planet both moons orbited.

Beyond the two moons the planet hung like a blue-green jewel against the darkness of space, an island of life in a lifeless, infinite sea. A virgin world that if his survey didn't reveal any unpleasant biological or geological surprises - which was always a possibility on worlds that weren't connected to the Stargate network - would become the new home of the Tollan people.

"What a beautiful world," a calm female voice said from beside him. Narim looked over to see Tala - one of the biologists assigned to his team - had come up beside him and was gazing out the view port at the new world as the Tollan science cruiser closed on the planet, angling their approach to enter orbit. Though it was perfectly possible to land the _Nadura_on the surface they would be taking a shuttle down for the first expedition.

"That it is," he agreed. "One that will hopefully become our new home. Is the rest of the team assembled in the shuttle bay?"

"Yes we are just waiting for you," Tala replied smiling at the handsome man next to her. She'd been trying to catch his eye from the moment she'd met him and so far hadn't been successful.

"Very well then," Narim answered turning away from the view port as the ship entered a high orbit of the planet. "Let us go," he continued as he started to walk out of the room.

Tala nodded even though Narim's back was to her. She stole a moment to look out the view ports at the new world, hoping that it would be right for her people. The refugee camps on Abydos while very comfortable - what with the accommodation modules the Science Ministry had hurriedly designed - were not ideal places to live for long. Then she turned and left following Narim to the _Nadura's_shuttle bay.

* * *

The _Nadura_ hung silent and graceful in orbit of the largely unexplored planet the bright yellowish white light of the systems F-type star reflecting off her hull making it look like the ship was literally glowing. To any observer the _Nadura_would have looked like a work of art and not a highly complex machine designed to take people across the vast, inhospitable gulf between worlds.

As the majestic Tollan starship began to pass over the planets largest continent a set of hanger bay doors on the underside opened. A small shuttle emerged from bay, leaving the safety of the cruiser and began a decreasing orbit that would soon see the craft enter the atmosphere with the goal of landing near an expansive river delta on the main continents eastern shore. With deceptive slowness the shuttle entered the outermost reaches of the atmosphere, a faint glow of energy appeared around it as tenuous upper atmosphere ions began to encounter and decay against the defensive energy field surrounding the craft.

As the shuttle descended lower into the atmosphere the glow around the craft increased as atoms encountered the force field and disintegrated. Within mere moments a sheath of incandescent plasma blazed around the shuttle, the plasma sheath however posed no threat to the Tollan craft as it descended ever lower as the shuttles shield kept the worst of the heat away from the trinium-based alloy of the hull.

Finally the shuttle entered the thicker, denser parts of the atmosphere and the plasma sheath evaporated. The shuttles shield glowed softly for a few more moments as it dissipated the energy it had absorbed during the descent before fading back into invisibility as the shuttle passed down through the clouds, decelerating all the while.

The craft broke through the clouds in moments and continued to decelerate until it came to a dead stop, hovering a few dozen meters above the grassy surface of one of the higher of the two banks of the river. Slowly ever so slowly the shuttle began descending again until with the softest of shivers it touched down. Blue light momentarily flickered around the craft as its shields were lowered and if anyone had been nearby they would have heard a soft humming sound as the drives powered down. Light abruptly blossomed on the port side of the craft as invisible seams parted exposing the airlock and the people standing within to the clear, fresh, faintly saline smelling air of the virgin planet.

Stepping down from the shuttle Narim gazed around at the world that his people would soon be calling home if all went well. The first things he heard as he gazed around was the soft lapping of the river against the banks as it began spreading out into the delta before emptying into the sea, mixing in with it was a sound he had never heard before. A sound no Tollan had heard in a great many centuries.

Birdsong.

"What is that sound," Tala asked as she stepped out of the shuttle herself.

"I believe it's the song of small avian fauna," Narim answered entranced by the sound. Most avian life forms had been extinct on Tollan for a great many generations along with countless other plant and animal species. All of them the victims of pollution before the Tollan people had woken up to the damage they'd been causing to their world and made the painful but necessary changes to their technology to halt the decline and reverse it as much as they could. Unfortunately for Tollan's avians and so many other animals and plants it had been to little and far to late.

"It's beautiful," Tala said breaking the silence as she listened entranced to the songs of the small creatures.

"It is," Narim agreed before forcing himself to stop listening to the animal songs and focus on what needed to be done next. "Right we better get to business, the sooner we set up our base camp the sooner we can begin doing the job we came here to do. Tala go back into the cockpit and contact the _Nadura_, inform Captain Naren and Councillor Travell that we've landed and are beginning to set up our base camp. The rest of you come with me."

While Tala hurried back into the interior of the shuttle the other twelve members of the initial landing party followed Narim around to the rear of the shuttle. A tap of one of the devices clipped onto his expedition suit allowed Narim to signal the crafts computer to open the cargo compartment revealing the series of boxes and modules stacked neatly on antigrav pallets inside the small compartment. Another touch of a control had the small guidance units of the pallets begin to bring the contents of the bay out into the open air.

One by one each individual took charge of a specific set pallets and began to lead them to a the slightly higher ground a few meters to their immediate right where they would begin setting up the base camp. In a few hours at the most they would be ready to begin the task that they had come to this planet to undertake. A task that would determine the future of the Tollan people and as such wasn't one any of them took lightly.

Not lightly at all.

* * *

_**Colonization of Tollana**_

_The colonization of Tollana by the refugee Tollan population is rightly regarded as one of the high points of the Tollan peoples history, Shortly after the initial landings the planet was certified safe for humanoid life forms and was determined to possess higher than expected reserves of trinium and other elements needed in Tollan technology of the era (see Tollan technology for further information)._

_With the planet certified plans swung firmly into place with Tollan starships arriving over the planet and beginning both the construction of a new capital city and a terminal to receive the refugees currently living on Abydos via the original Tollan Stargate transferred to the planet and reconfigured to accept the new stellar coordinates. With great efficiency the first settlements were constructed on Tollana's largest continent Vemal and were built in such away as to complement the natural landscape instead of opposing it._

_With the settlements complete and progress on the Stargate train terminal proceeding at an acceptable pace the Tollan moved to secure Tollana against any attack by the forces of the nearby Goa'uld Empire - particularly those commanded by the System Lord Heru'ur (see Spacefaring Species: Goa'uld - System Lords - Early 21st Century for more information). A network of ion cannons were constructed across the surface of the planet and early warning subspace sensors deployed throughout the system. By the time this network was completed and certified to be operational construction of the Stargate terminal had been completed and the colonization of Tollana could begin in earnest._

_For nearly nine Earth months trains departed Abydos on a near continuous basis bringing the Tollan from the refugee camps to their new homes on Tollana. When the exodus was finally completed the Tollan now had a world completely free of the scars created by their own progression from a primitive agrarian society to an advanced starfaring level. In the aftermath many Tollan were noted to be extremely grateful for all the help provided to them by Earth and Abydos following the loss of their original homeworld after the destruction of Serita (see Seritan Catastrophe for more information). It is believed by many historians that this widespread sense of public gratitude prevented the Tollan from sliding into a period of interstellar isolationism as advocated by some members of the Curia._

_- Except from Spacefaring Species: Tollan - Encylopedia Britannica 2049_


	8. Chapter 8: The Sun God's Legacy

_**Chapter Eight: The Sun God's Legacy**_

**Hanger 3, SGC Airfield  
****Abydos  
5****th**** September 1998**

A thoroughly exhausted Jack O'Neill approached the small door set into the much more massive rolling doors of the hanger that had for the past half-year been a place where he could just relax and unwind from the hectic schedules, organizational meetings and training of the Spec Warfare School. He was as much an instructor as he was a student; learning the techniques others had pulled out of their hats which proved useful in full combat simulation and in turn teaching them. It was _so nice_ to work with veteran combat professionals, people who knew their stuff already, so there was a solid platform to work from in developing combat tactics for offworld ops. Pretty soon the SGC would be able to sport a solid cadre of special operators that would be able to function in an alien environment. Of course, not every contingency or situation could be planned for, that was impossible, but Jack felt for the first time confident in their ability to conduct offworld ops. Shooting from the hip, as had been done for the first Abydos mission, was firmly a thing of the past.

One of the primary differences between then and now would be a decent grasp of what was out there. The Tollan Instructors had provided Earth information on the basic environments on various worlds they had encountered. It was basic information that the Tollan saw no harm in providing. Little did they know the information was put to use in areas far, far outside the basic environmental sciences Earth had originally cited its interest in. It was far easier to design weapons, armour and technology that wouldn't fail in the field if you knew what sort of field they may be in after all.

Pulling out his ID-slash-access badge, Jack swiped the card on the reader beside the door, typed in his code and pushed his thumb into the fingerprint reader. The EM console buzzed and with a resonating "thunk" of the releasing bolt allowed him entrance. It wasn't much of a retreat from the heat, but at least he could get out of the direct sunlight. He admired the main attraction sitting in the hanger for a few moments before heading to a nearby ladder and climbing up to the gantry level, then a mere ten steps to a folding deck chair and he collapsed into it.

His eyes found the object of his fascination again and all the engineers and service crew scattered around it, the bracings attached to it and the clusters of tool racks and scientific instruments beside it. Even though it's midnight black skin was still open in certain sections allowing access to its internals – it was a thing of beauty that never failed to take Jack's breath away every time he saw it again.

The YF-23 Eagle _Aerospace_ Superiority Fighter reminded him of a blade that cut through the air with deathly precision – of course this one would do the same in the vacuum of space as well. While it was clearly a modification of the YF-22, it now had had a much stronger blending of elements from the F117 Stealth Fighter in its look. The resulting package looked aggressive, menacing and dare he say it, even gorgeous. This was what he thought of when he imagined a space dog fight, not those silly Death Gliders.

Jack pulled out a water canteen and took a deep gulp before he noticed an equally beautiful thing in a green jumpsuit approaching his position from the direction of one of the other ladders. Climbing up and crossing the distance to his lawn chair she soon stood to attention a respectable distance and saluted. He returned the salute, not bothering to get up knowing that his interlocutor wouldn't mind the small breach of rank protocol.

"Captain Carter, at ease."

"Good afternoon, Colonel."

He gestured to the F23, "How's it coming?"

She turned to face the fighter before replying, "Another two months sir, for the first atmospheric test flight."

Jack huffed in disappointment, "Just last week, you said three weeks."

"There were some bugs identified in the thrust vector software, sir."

"Damn it, these fifth generation fighters need more than a dozen computers just to keep them in the air and flying," Jack groused. "The Death Glider has only one – and it's stupidly simple to fly."

"That's because its computer is a complex crystal based optical model, generations ahead of our own silicon based computing in performance, which does nearly everything for the pilot, sir. So we have to network multiple computers together in our fighters to manage the same."

Jack kept his voice as casual as possible, "Selected a test pilot yet?"

"Paul Metz."

"Damn," Jack grumbled. Metz was a former F15 fighter jock who'd left the Air Force and been promptly grabbed by Lockheed. Jack had hoped that the SGC wouldn't go private given that Lockheed had only had a vestigial involvement since the fighter had been 'gated to Abydos due to security concerns. Now with Disclosure a thing of the past, they were back in fold on the F23 development.

She faced him now, an earnest expression in her blue eyes, "Sir, with all due respect, there's no way they would've risked an active serving senior officer in an experimental ASF.

"You're right," Jack conceded. "But look at that thing, and tell me you wouldn't give your last cent to be able to fly that thing first."

"Considering I partially designed and built it, I know what you mean, sir."

"So have you guys gotten anywhere on further production of them…"

It was Carter's turn to sigh and she rubbed her hand through her short blonde hair in frustration. "The liquid gravicite problem is… it's like… it's directly in front of me and when I try to grab it in my hands it turns to smoke. We've managed a work around using Gravicite inspired PEM Hydrogen fuel cells – of course that means the '23 will need to refuel much sooner than the Glider would."

The Death Glider got power from a very compact Liquid Gravicite Reactor – SGC scientists had figured it out after throwing every qualified brain and supercomputer they had at it – the one thing they had failed to find was the method of how Gravicite was kept in a stable liquid form. Frustratingly, current policy prevented them from questioning the Tollan regarding anything Gravicite-related so there was no help coming from that direction.

The truth was that the YF-23 as it stood in the hangar below them had the engines of a Death Glider – whilst the Inertial Dampeners, hull, avionics and everything else was made by the SGC and Lockheed Martin. The main problem now was the Glider's Gravitic engine. It was fiendishly advanced to the extent that it was estimated, even with Earth's rapidly advancing understanding of general gravitic sciences, that it would take another decade or more to field an equivalent engine.

Jack stared thoughtfully at the '23 for a few moments, "We really need to capture a production line of those things."

"That would be ideal," Carter nodded. "Sir, have you given some thought about my request."

Jack stared shrewdly at her, "You've kept up to date?"

"Physically, yes sir. I've studied the all the new off world protocols, and I'm now LECU and Z1 qualified."

"With all this," he gestured to the fighter somewhat incredulously, "on your plate, how did you manage?"

"I made the time, sir." Jack resisted the urge to grin at that attitude. He mentally ticked yet another box that represented the qualities he was looking for in the members of his team.

He'd keep her on probationary status for the first three recon missions that were slated for SG1. There would be missions where she'd have to be kept on the other side of the wormhole. Despite the fact that she had been an excellent combat pilot in the Gulf, and would be an excellent and competent soldier out there in the galaxy, able to understand and mess with alien doohickeys that were about to blow up in their faces and doom the Universe, she was not Spec Ops.

He couldn't give her a garrote, order her to stealthily strangle a Jaffa and expect her to succeed. It had nothing to do with being a woman or lack of physical strength, she didn't have neither the training, mentality or experience. Fortunately and unfortunately, the history of special operators was such that women hadn't had the opportunity to acquire either in the US armed forces – though there were signs that change was on the horizon in that front.

He also had no doubt that there would be situations in the future that would test her and forge her in that crucible of unexpected combat, and test him in keeping his team together when she was wounded and in trouble.

It was one of those things where only time would tell if it was a horrendously bad idea.

* * *

**Control Room  
SGC Gateway Centre  
Abydos  
12th September 1998  
**  
"Begin dialing sequence."

George Hammond had lost count of the number of times he had said that over the last couple of eventful years, and he was somewhat shocked to note that things had become routine. He had promised himself not to try to lose the sense of awe and wonder every time the Stargate activated but it seemed not to be. He didn't even blink at the sight of the wormhole erupting from the maw anymore – not even when he stood only twenty feet away from the thing. At his COPSO station he merely made a note of it on his computer and looked up at the large wall screen showing the active Stargate.

Only now did he begin to feel the excitement as he saw the launching ramp being pushed towards the Stargate.

Today marked the first time the SGC would fully recon their a world in the general unknown of the Galaxy since the Tollan exodus. They had a good idea, both thanks to the Abydos Cartouche and the Tollans, that this wormhole wasn't terminating onto a Goa'uld controlled world, but Earth wasn't putting its faith completely in either. That precaution was why the first visitor to the new world would be the MQ-2 Predator Recon UAV.

Ordinarily the MQ-1 Predator, introduced in service in '95, wouldn't have even fit through the Gate with its forty-eight foot wingspan and it needed a long runway for takeoff. The MQ-2 was essentially a refit that General Atomics had made to the Predator in the last year specifically for SGC operational requirements. Its fuel tank had been halved and the smallest Mass Reducer yet made squeezed in the free space. The MR wasn't fully effective though as a consequence, and could only halve the Predator's overall mass consistently. Nevertheless this meant that it needed much less lift to fly and could take a large reduction in wingspan to be able to fit through the Gate.

"Launch platform in position, General," Captain Harrell, the officer manning ROBO reported.

"Very well, launch when ready."

The officer tapped in a sequence of buttons on his station, "Three…two…one… launch."

The wall screen camera was briefly flash-blinded by the detachable launch rockets lighting off and hurtling the Predator along the platform rails and into the wormhole event horizon. While they knew, thanks to a camera ball delivered with an earlier viability dialing to the planet, that the Predator had more than enough space on the other side to fly through the initial launch and climb to cruising altitude the procedure would still all be done by the on-board computer rather than a human operator. In this respect the Predator was initially a missile until the rocket pods spent their fuel and the computer turned guidance over to the signal coming from the wormhole.

This had been done before numerous times in simulation and actual tests between the Earth and Abydos Gates. Teething out the problems had taken two crashed MQ2s and weeks of super computer time. The MQ2 had test launched successfully with no critical faults ten times since then before the green light was given to blast it into the relative unknown through a Gate.

"Receiving telemetry, General. Launch appears to be in the green," Captain Harrell reported.

Hammond looked at the relevant wallscreen as it resolved from a slight hazy static to show the feed from the MQ2s Point of View camera overlain with a tactical HUD any fighter pilot would be very familiar with. As programmed, the Predator was on autopilot and gaining altitude while executing a slow bank to the right while always keeping itself within a few miles of the Gate. The view was one of a terrestrial-like planet that was in low light conditions of pre-dawn. The feed was switched into the Infrared spectrum and now a ghostly grey and white rendered version of the view was presented.

There were some really odd shaped trees on the new planet, but otherwise the UAV was confirming the disposable atmospheric probes results as to the planet's suitability for human life.

The Predator drone's usage was actually part of an amendment to the exploration procedures the SGC had originally pioneered. The SGC had had a long good look at the Tollans own history and taking into account what had happened on Earth during the Colonial Era of Sail, quickly realized that First Contact between human civilizations with extreme technological differences had the potential to be disastrous for either side of the equation. Though Tollan and Earth had the same difference, the former weren't conquerors (Thank God), but rather a high level 'enlightened' civilization. Earth couldn't expect that happy state of affairs to always be the norm.

Earth could end up on a planet where their mere presence was the equivalent of a lit match thrown in a dry field.

Thus was born the SGC First Contact policy.

Earth did not wish to unduly contaminate any pre or post Renaissance equivalent civilization's development, but it did recognize the damage already done by the Goa'uld. As such, any enslaved population could be contacted without restriction. Any civilization not in contact with the Goa'uld in recent (within 15 years) years had to be evaluated by a Cultural Attaché on base or Intel Agent infiltrated on the planet's surface. To achieve this, Intel had to be gathered first by machines, machines that couldn't be readily looked at or handled by the native population. Therefore, was deemed ideal to send in disposable, self-destruct-capable, probes through the Gate to determine viability followed by a Predator that could fly at fifteen thousand feet and give a God's eye view. Only then would a MALC be sent through and eventually a full SG recon team.

"Predator is at recon altitude, General."

"Begin grid search, Captain."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**SGC Gateway Centre  
****Abydos  
12****th**** September 1998**

Hammond leaned back in the comfortable leather chair in his rather spacious office and sipped at his cup of coffee. He dearly wished he could just go off duty, but until he knew that the drone was safely back on base and the mission complete he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink. He eyed the small television which displayed the live feed though there was currently nothing of note being displayed. That had not been the case a mere two hours ago, however, when the UAV had picked up a rather grisly event. A human figure in rather intricate colorful clothing being run down by five men on horseback complete with dogs in tow. The control room personnel had watched grimly as the dogs first tacked the fleeing man to the ground before the horsemen caught up and slashed at the figure with swords. The underslung high resolution Predator recon camera had caught the event in detail; they had seen the blood fly and then the entrails spill.

The men had then hacked off the head of their victim and put it in a bag, leaving the body to nature where it lay. Not exactly the most inspiring thing to see of the great unknown. On Hammond's order the Predator had tracked the horsemen back to a large village that reminded the anthropologists somewhat of Mongol hut architecture and design. Now, at least his SG teams would know where the sword-wielding natives were located and could better avoid them.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yes?"

His senior aide poked his head in, "Sir? Dr Jackson to see you with the LRI report."

"Send him in."

Daniel Jackson entered wearing khaki slacks and a white short-sleeve shirt. In a moment of whimsy, Hammond mentally added a Fedora, leather jacket, bullwhip and revolver in his imagination… but it didn't work; Daniel Jackson certainly wasn't an Indiana Jones. The man was still a bit too young to pull it off, and the glasses didn't help either.

"Dr Jackson, what do you have for me?"

"Preliminary work-up on the culture on P3X140, given what we've seen so far," Daniel handed over a file folder, which Hammond opened up and began to browse. "No Goa'uld activity or typical structures have been discovered in a two hundred mile radius around the Gate. So it should be fairly safe in that regard, however, there are no guarantees with regard to the local humans. We're seventy percent sure we're dealing with a late Mongol culture which is on the cusp of moving from a pure nomadic existence to living in villages and towns."

"Open First Contact is out then… I see here that they have curved shortbows," Hammond tapped the report.

"Yes, so in that regard a team sent should be pretty safe at long range, though we did see them practicing horse archery," Daniel pointed out.

Hammond nodded in understanding, "Recon team will have to go during nightfall. Does LRI have anyone who can perhaps infiltrate, once we medically clear the planet?"

"No one on Abydos unfortunately; most of who we have on staff here currently are experts on Mediterranean and Middle-eastern cultures. We'll have to put the assignment into the pipeline back to Earth."

"Thank you, Dr Jackson."

Daniel stood to leave but paused, "Out of curiosity, who are you sending?"

"SG2."

"O'Neill is going to be irked."

"He was," Hammond felt his mouth quirk into a half grin and elaborated when Daniel frowned in confusion, "Colonels Kawalsky, Ferretti and O'Neill played Rock-paper-scissors for it."

* * *

**P3X140  
****13****th**** September 1998**

Colonel Charles Kawalsky felt himself emerge from the event horizon of the Stargate and into the relative darkness of a new world with the light from the Gate being the only thing that illuminated the area. He rushed off to his designated position in the defense formation and activated his LECU helmet's night vision, his Z1 held low but ready to snap up in an instant. He heard the 'slurps' of the rest of SG2 emerging and counted up to ten, keeping his eyes on his designated sector. The Gate shut down and the clarity on his NV improved significantly. Though he was used to it by now, his nervous breathing echoed within his helmet as he scanned from right to left.

"All sectors clear?" he whispered. The LECU helmet would normally prevent the wearer's voice from being heard unless a switch at the base of the helmet was flicked. However, each helmet was equipped with a specialized LASH tactical communication system that the user could enable or disable with a panel affixed to the chest of their BDUs. The system allowed for a whisper to be transmitted as clearly as a normally spoken voice which prevented odd distortions due to the helmet.

"Clear, Colonel." It was repeated numerous times.

"We've got six hours before sunrise, let's make it count. You know your individual assignments…get to it."

Kawalksy watched as his team split into five two-man elements, four of which disappeared into brush as quietly as they could. He would remain at the Gate with the two members of SG2 who were the most technically orientated, Lieutenants Tamika Moss and Keith Tucker. Both were already clustered around the MALC and busy sending landing instructions with it to the still orbiting Predator drone. He was still amazed that the thing had remained airborne as long as it had, and it still had another ten hours on the clock before it would've run out of fuel. Gravitics was a wonderful thing – if half of the theoretical applications that were being dreamed up for it became a reality…

He heard the Predator before he saw it of course, a repetitive chopping din that echoed though the air. The engine noise started to fade as it throttled down and with a sudden flaring of its flaps to bleed off a lot of its speed it came into view over the distant treeline before its bulbous nose dipped to perform a deceptively gentle landing for something its size. It didn't have traditional wheeled landing gear, but instead lowered skids which would allow it to slide to a stop on variable surfaces.

Kawalsky winced as the landing hit a little too hard for comfort; there would definitely need to be a bit of maintenance after this. The Predator shut off its throttle and engine completely as it slid to a rather noisy stop.

"The next gen Predator really needs to be a VTOL," Moss grumbled as she, Tucker and Kawalksy hurried towards the now stationary drone. Its mass reduction systems were still active and it effectively only weighed just over one hundred kilograms. This allowed it to be easily picked up between the three of them with the aid of special handles built into the sides and a tow rope. It looked mightily impressive and to the uneducated made it seem like they were near-supermen – picking up and pulling an eight meter long aircraft with only a bit of grunting effort.

When the Predator was just out of splash damage range in front of the Stargate, Kawalsky hurried to the DHD and smoothly dialed Abydos. When the wormhole roared into existence, he lifted his arm and tapped in a prearranged code into the cellphone like device strapped to it. The small black and green LCD screen flashed the letters 'Accepted', before he triggered his radio.

"Sierra Golf Charlie, Sierra Golf Two. Eagle Eyes retrieved."

"_Roger that, you are cleared to send it through._"

Kawalsky hurried back to the grounded Predator and the three of them pushed it into the wormhole. "_Eagle Eyes en route._"

Three seconds later, "_Eagle Eye received._"

"_Understood. First scheduled check in will be in four hours. Sierra Golf Two out._" The radio signal was cut and with it the wormhole winked out. "Moss, Tucker, get that MALC into cover and under some camo netting."

"Yes, sir."

Kawalsky scanned the area once again; the likelihood that the locals would investigate the noise was high and he was tapping his feet with impatience. He decided to make himself useful and tried his best to eliminate the tire tracks of the MALC, keeping a beady eye for any movement.

"_Colonel, Randall here. We have a problem._"

Kawalsky sighed, "_What is it, Captain?_"

"_Bottom line, a native rather literally ran in to us, sir. Situation is contained for the moment._"

"_Report your position, I'm on my way._"

* * *

Kawalsky, Moss and Tucker moved through the darkness, threading through trees and bush in such a manner that they wouldn't be disturbed too much. It took twenty minutes to reach Randall's position from the Stargate. Their task had been to collect local flora samples, but it seemed they had been stumbled upon by a rather frightened, swarthy-skinned young man in the local garb who was now seated against a tall tree. Randall and Lieutenant Atshushi Asano were essentially standing guard over him, boxing him in to prevent escape – though the young local was not trying.

Kawalsky saw the reason why when he got close enough to the local to see a small Tollan Translator attached to his temple. The Tollan had gifted a supply of the devices to the SGC for use by the front line recon teams most likely to engage in First Contact. They were black-boxed of course, mostly because of the fact that there was a high likelihood of Goa'uld contact and the Tollans didn't want that tech to fall into their hands.

"What's the story, Captain?"

"This is Temur, Colonel," Randall gestured to the young man. "Temur, meet our leader, Colonel Kawalsky."

Kawalsky waved off both Randall and Asano, allowing Temur to stand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Temur half-bowed before rapidly speaking in his language.

"He's basically returning the greeting, sir," Randall translated. Kawalsky noted with a bit of annoyance that it would be helpful if _everyone_on the recon team had one of the translators.

"What's he doing stumbling about out here in the middle of the night?"

There was a rapid back and forth speaking between the two before Randall sighed, "He was essentially spying on the village about two clicks to the north east. Not in the military sense, Sir. He's from a neighboring tribe/village and is trying to find out what became of…his girlfriend I think would be the closest translation. They were caught together recently."

"Shakespearean deal?"

"If you mean, Romeo and Juliet, in fair Verona, two rival houses? Yes, that sums it up quite nicely I suppose, sir."

Kawalsky thought for a moment of a course of action while staring at the nervous young man who was shooting them wary and amazed looks in turn. "Tell him he can go about his business and that it would be best if he not mention us at all to his people."

There was visible relief on the Temur's face and he babbled his thanks, before bowing and heading off into the night.

"All right people, I'm setting a new time limit on our mission. I want all our objectives done and dusted two hours before local sunrise. There's to be no corroborating evidence of our presence here, just in case Temur does talk and get someone to believe him."

"Yes, sir."

SG3's commander and his sub-team headed off into the night back towards the general direction of the Stargate.

"Perhaps we should've just assigned someone to shadow him, make sure he gets back okay and to verify his story sir," Moss suggested.

"No, Lieutenant," Kawalsky had considered it, but they had too many things to do in a limited time now for that to be feasible. "We're not going to be poking our noses in their affairs here. There's no visible Goa'uld presence or recent activity and they're far less advanced. That means they're essentially off-limits to open contact with us. The LRI can handle this one eventually with a trained infiltrator to observe only."

"I'm still not sure I like this policy, sir." Moss shook her head. "Let's say that kid had been caught spying and their enemy village was chasing him down. He then runs into us accidentally, what do we do? Defend him or just let him get killed."

"Defending him would probably mean having to kill those sent after him," Tucker pointed out. "We can't just do that summarily either."

"What if that kid's great grandson becomes their Leonardo or Einstein?" Moss argued.

"That goes both ways Lieutenant, what if the future children of the men we gun down becomes their Mandela or Galileo?" Kawalsky sighed. "No, this dilemma is exactly why we don't interfere, on the individual SG team level at least."

Moss scowled in her helmet and was somewhat thankful that her expression was hidden. "So we'll save a civilization that's threatened as a whole, but not the individual."

"It's a dilemma that will continue to haunt us and other SG teams in the future," Kawalsky declared. "We're fighting the Goa'uld, not our extra-solar human cousins - we'll defend ourselves if attacked, but otherwise we leave them to their own business. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**Apophis' Flagship**  
**Hyperspace**  
**In transit to Chulak**

Teal'c stared sightlessly out the viewport of the peltak as his thoughts carried him back over the past week. A series of bloody battles had seen a single planet change hands four times between six separate combatants before his Lord's forces finally won the day. Apophis had already lavished him with praise for his success and condemnation for his failure at completely destroying the enemies of his God faster.

Teal'c had struggled not to simply strangle his "god" with his bare hands in that moment. Nearly ten thousand Jaffa in total had died across all sides of the conflict and those under the command of Apophis' First Prime felt a larger share of the death. Teal'c knew many of the Jaffa slain for a near-barren world and his anger at their needless deaths roiled within his heart.

Tukash had been one of Ra's many holdings until the System Lords began to infringe on his territory. It had begun, ironically, with Apophis' "poaching" of human slaves from a few of Ra's worlds. It was a tactic his "god" had used on numerous occasions to test Ra's boundaries and responses. In the past the Supreme System Lord had typically responded swiftly and with a brutality even the other Goa'uld, Apophis included, would cringe at. Steal a dozen slaves from Ra and suffer the loss of twelve ships, a dozen score Jaffa, or if the Supreme System Lord was truly annoyed – face the death of a dozen of your worlds.

Shuddering at memories of his youth and the stories of Ra's "punishments" Teal'c quickly pulled his thoughts back to the recent battles. Once Apophis realized no retribution was coming from Ra for the theft of his slaves the serpent god grew bolder and dared to attempt further poaching from two worlds so deep within Ra's domain they had been virtually forgotten by the Goa'uld as a whole: Tau'ri and Abydos. Apophis was the only Goa'uld alive aside from Ra, Heru'ur and Yu who knew the Chappa'ai symbols for those worlds so it was a bold move. When neither planet could be successfully dialed, further attempts to other worlds began.

Tukash had been the third world Apophis chose to attempt his blatant thieving from Ra. A nearly barren world Ra had long since stopped using it for resource or slave purposes, but rumors had persisted for years that the Supreme System Lord had begun using it as a test site for new weapons. The Serpent God wanted the secrets the planet held and was convinced Ra was either too occupied or dead to stop him. His assumption was put to the test, however, when Ra's Jaffa refused to allow Apophis' forces so much as a foothold through the Chappa'ai. Apophis' assumption of Ra's status began to waver.

When Ra's Jaffa struck, and rendered uninhabitable, one of Apophis' border worlds possessing a rich naquada mine the assumptions nearly shattered. Apophis, however, cared little for the retaliatory strike. The fact that Ra himself still had not made an appearance only emboldened Teal'c's "god". The First Prime cursed Ra's Jaffa nearly as much as he praised their loyalty – even if it was misplaced in a false god. Spies from Apophis' enemies had spread word of the events and soon the general belief that Ra was no longer alive proliferated among the System Lords.

Chaos ensued.

With a sigh Teal'c shook himself from the memory. Tukash was now Apophis' though it was useless; there were no secret weapons, no slaves or minerals of notable quantities. The planet had been a Jaffa planet much as Chulak was and that was the only reason for the massive forces present. Six System Lords had lost ships, Jaffa, and resources fighting one another and Ra's still-loyal Jaffa for absolutely nothing.

Sneering to himself the First Prime of Apophis turned away from his contemplations and strode purposefully off the peltak. It was nearly time to awaken his "god" as the ship would arrive over Chulak shortly. "_Perhaps,_" Teal'c amused himself with the fanciful thought, "_I will strangle him as he rises from the sarcophagus. Dying a Shovl'a would be worth seeing the look on his face as I wring the life from the false god._"

Dismissing the idea as foolishness he turned his focus to more important matters than dreams of Jaffa freedom. His "god's" forces were currently engaged in countless battles across Ra's former domain. No matter the Supreme System Lord's current status it could not be denied that his Jaffa were not rolling over for the "Lesser Gods" as one, now dead, Prime had put it. They loudly proclaimed Ra's divinity and that they would pass the test he was placing before them.

It was a thought that made even Teal'c nervous. No one could deny that Ra had held power for millennia for a number of reasons, not the least of which was his cunning. Equal to his cunning and brutality was his absolute disinterest in the lives of those who served him. The idea that the Supreme System Lord would sacrifice worlds, ships, and countless Jaffa as some form of test should have been unthinkable. It was not though. Teal'c had even heard Apophis consider the possibility more than once, but greed spurred the "god" on despite the risk.

If this was all a test, a calculated move on Ra's part to determine the loyalty of his forces and the other System Lords, it would mean certain death for all. Ra would only initiate such a plan if he was completely assured of his ability to swiftly regain all he had lost and more once he was ready. Again, Teal'c shuddered at the thought of what Ra's retribution might be like.

As his journey came to an end before Apophis' sarcophagus the First Prime knelt and waited. While his "god" awoke his final thought in those precious free moments were of his wife and son and the hope he would be able to visit them before his "god" dispatched him to yet another meaningless battle.

The sound of stone grinding against stone brought a complete end to his thoughts. Teal'c immediately bowed his head in the submissive manner expected of him as the top of his "gods" sarcophagus began to open. For a few moments the grinding sound continued, the two panels that formed the top of the sarcophagus splitting apart to reveal the evil being lying in the white walled chamber within - a chamber that Teal'c had seen work many miracles in the past, healing injuries that would otherwise have been fatal.

The grinding sound ceased as the panels stopped moving. For a few moments more nothing happened and a tiny part of Teal'c hoped that something had gone wrong that the false god had somehow met his end during his rest. Sadly it was not to be and he ruthlessly pushed down the thought as a perfectly manicured dark skinned hand appeared on each panel as Apophis sat upright.

Seemingly ignoring him - though Teal'c knew the Goa'uld was fully aware of his presence - Apophis climbed out of the sarcophagus before turning in place and looking at his loyal First Prime. As always Teal'c had served him well in a campaign that he had to admit had been difficult, but which was only a stepping stone to his ultimate goal. The goal of replacing the missing Ra as Supreme System Lord.

"Report Teal'c," Apophis demanded.

"My lord we are approaching Chulak and will be dropping out of hyperspace momentarily," Teal'c answered submissively all the while hating that he had to do this. Unfortunately Bra'tac was right, there was only so much he could do to defy or temper the whims of the false god without arousing Apophis' suspicions. He had seen what happened to those Jaffa who on occasion had openly defied Apophis and rejected his supposed godhood. There repeated deaths - until of course they repented and were granted the 'mercy' of a permanent death - had been horrific to say the very least.

"Excellent, then we shall be able to hold a feast to celebrate our latest triumph," Apophis replied privately looking forward to spending some time with his queen Amounet.

"Yes my lord," Teal'c replied though he didn't feel like celebrating such a hollow and pointless victory. He just wanted to see Dray'ac and Rya'c again - especially he wanted to see how his son was doing with the warrior training he had begun now that he had been given his first prim'tah.

"Come we must be on the pel'tac for our arrival," Apophis said turning and starting to leave the room. Teal'c hurriedly got to his feet and followed, hiding a smile. If there was going to be a feast then at least he would get some welcome time with his family before being once more sent off to battle, which would hopefully not be so costly.

* * *

**"Mexican Manhattan" Restaurant  
****San Antonio, Texas, USA, Earth  
12th September 1998**

_'After the successful launch of the VentureStar spacecraft and its test flight around Earth a week ago, NASA, ESA, JSA and the Russian Space Agency have announced that the construction of the ISS will proceed - with the first two modules, the Russian Zarya and American Unity module launching together. Designers of the space agencies are hard at work with revising their designs to incorporate new...' _

Dark brown eyes turned from the television hanging behind the bar to dispassionately survey the various tourists and locals wandering along the famed San Antonio River Walk path below. Taking a pull from the long-neck bottle in his hand the fifty-something Colonel barely acknowledged the arrival of his guest as the younger man took the seat across from him and ordered a drink. The two men sat in silence until the waitress had returned with the newcomer's drink and left once again.

"Odd place to meet," offered the young, clean-cut newcomer.

"I was in town, and I like the food. Now come on Michael, what's this about?"

Michael Tucker's face broadened into a grin that some might fancifully call sinister. "I got you in."

The only outward appearance of the statement's effect on the Colonel was the slow lowering of his beer away from his lips to rest upon the table. His eyes narrowed slightly after a moment and he responded with a simple, "How?"

Shrugging in arrogant satisfaction Tucker leaned back in his chair. "I can't take all the credit. You were one of the few smart enough to not get caught up in the NID's death-throws. A little creative editing of your service record and whispering in an ear or three...," he left the rest unsaid knowing his companion understood.

"Impressive. So who exactly will I be working for?"

"Believer it or not," Michael began with a chuckle, "you'll be following the real chain of command."

A single raised eyebrow was the only response the statement achieved.

"I'm serious Harry. The Intelligence community has all ten of its sticky little fingers in the pie and has from the word go. We've actually been given the authority to do our jobs and those in charge actually listen to us. Sure, they may not always agree, but they take us seriously. It's not like in recent history where the NID had to work off the books."

"And the benefactors behind those off the books errands? I doubt they're happy about everyone's sudden trip to the moral high ground."

"Those that didn't get caught with the NID have been retired quietly. I'm sure you've seen the news."

Harry Maybourne simply nodded and took another pull from his beer while studying Tucker. The two changed their topic of conversation when the waitress returned for their order. In all outward appearances the two were just old service buddies meeting for lunch. It wasn't until the dishes had once again been cleared from the table and their privacy assured for bit that the topic once again changed.

"Say I join. What's my job?"

"You understand the long game that's being played regarding disclosure I assume?"

Maybourne nodded. "Once I had a few of the facts it wasn't hard to put it together. I admit I'm impressed."

Tucker smirked before responding, "I'll pass that along to Dr. Jackson. Anyway, your job is going to be to 'go rogue' and be a dirty little traitor willing to sell the truth and secrets to anyone with the cash."

"Michael that sounds like it puts a very large bulls-eye on me. You're not exactly selling me on the idea."

"Relax Harry. It's just a deep cover assignment to help us keep an eye on people and organizations we can't easily retire."

"And yet you're freely talking about it in a public restaurant."

"Please Harry," Michael dismissed with a roll of his eyes, "you know very well that even without recent advances there was tech available to make a public place as secure as any bunker."

"Fair enough. When do you need an answer?"

"Soon. We need eyes and ears out there ASAP. The entire operation is progressing into the next phase soon and with more people in the program..."

Harry didn't need Tucker to finish the statement as the point was well understood. The secrecy behind any program was directly and inversely proportional to the number of people involved. "Alright, I'm in."

"Excellent. I'll call you in a day or two...and thanks for lunch," Michael responded while standing. Maybourne stood as well and shook his soon-to-be coworker's hand. As the two parted Tucker smirked to himself over sticking Maybourne with the bill for lunch.

Maybourne, however, smirked as he opened Tucker's now missing wallet and muttered a quiet, "Thanks for lunch Michael."

* * *

**Chulak**

Teal'c walked purposefully, with all the authority expected of his position as the First Prime of Apophis, through the corridors of the palace. He had been watching his son Rya'c train with the other young warriors under the tutelage of Master Bra'tac when Apophis had summoned him. His "god" had given him a new task; a mission that he had overseen dozens of times before during his service to the false god even before his elevation to Prime and later then First Prime. Though a relatively simple and low risk task, it was a mission that always left a very foul taste in his mouth. It was only through years of conditioning and ruthless self control that he was capable of carefully hiding his loathing of the assignment as well as he hid his true contempt for the Goa'uld who'd enslaved his people for uncounted generations.

Apophis and Amounett had commanded that he take a small force of Jaffa to the planet Cartago to collect a number of the healthiest and most attractive Byrsa villagers who called the planet home. Once he had found a suitable number, he was to bring them back to Chulak where one or more of them would be chosen to suffer a fate that Teal'c privately considered to be far, far worse than death. The villager, or villagers if more than one caught the gods' eyes, in question would be presented to the mature Goa'uld symbiote that Apophis had chosen to become his newest Underlord. Should the symbiote find favor with the living sacrifice, as Teal'c thought of them, they would be claimed as the host of a new "god". It was only if the symbiote found the villager lacking that they would be granted the far more humane fate of a relatively quick death.

Navigating the hallways with his usual stoic silence, Teal'c privately vowed to do his best to give the villagers on Cartago a chance to escape, though as usual he would have to be circumspect about it. Despite knowing that the upcoming events on the small planet were to be yet another crime he could lay at the feet of the false gods ruthless practicality would have to rule his actions. The life of a First Prime and their family constantly danced on a blade's edge under the watchful gaze and fickle whims of their god. Yet, for all his ingrained and trained practicality a small part of the First Prime of Apophis deeply wished that one day the Goa'uld would face justice for this and their many other crimes. The deeper, darker, half of the wish being that he could be the one to one day exact that justice.

Coming up upon a courtyard where a dozen of his fellows were sparring he pushed aside all thoughts and dreams of dealing out justice and turned his attention to the here and now. "Jaffa," he called out prompting his subordinates to immediately stop their exercises and line up facing him. "Our lord has commanded that we go to Cartago and capture a suitable number of worthy villagers for a Ritual of Choosing," he continued walking down the line as if inspecting them. "I have decided that you twelve will accompany me. Get into armour and meet me at the Chappa'ai in ten minutes."

"Yes First Prime," Te'lok the most senior of the twelve Jaffa acknowledged before they raced off to the armory to heed the words of their First Prime and thus their god's command. Teal'c resumed his course through the palace. As befitting his position as First Prime, he was always ready for battle and thus was already prepared for the journey ahead. His trek to the clearing where the Chappa'ai resided was spent with a part of his mind praying to whatever true deity, or deities, might be listening for forgiveness for what he was about to do.

When he came to a stop next to the Control Pedestal for the 'Portal of the Gods', he rested his Ma'tok's club end on the gravel of the well-worn earth of the clearing and simply stared at the circular device. The Goa'uld often boasted that they had created the Portals across the Galaxy, but Teal'c had long had doubts about that claim. It was a heretical idea that sprung from certain events long after his old Master had broken his mind free from the chains of falsehood that had been laid on them by the false gods. The freedom of knowing the truth had given him a new perspective on events when on one occasion the Portal failed to open when Apophis himself had entered the destination. The look of surprise and frustration that had flashed on the Goa'uld's face lasted a mere moment, but Teal'c had spotted it and knew it for what it was. A god should have known that the Portal at their destination was already in use after all. Teal'c had been the only one with Apophis at the time and so the false god's equally false excuse was wasted on him.

There were also other occasions when the Portal would act in ways that showed that while the Goa'uld knew many of the ring's secrets, they were not the true masters or creators of its power. In those rare moments of idleness Teal'c often considered the true origins of the rings. He often thought that perhaps the fabled Asgard, who could deny the gods access to worlds of their choosing, were the ones responsible for the creation of the Chappa'ais. It would certainly explain the blatant taboo on all knowledge of the fabled, yet feared, race.

The sound of heavy footsteps marching in perfect cadence reached his ears and once again Teal'c was drawn from his contemplations as he turned to see the column of twelve Jaffa he had selected approaching. Arranged in a standard formation of two Jaffa abreast in six rows the sound of their march was enhanced by their armoured footwear. When entire armies marched, the sound was strong enough that the Jaffa had to close their helmets to keep their ears from bursting. It was of course also useful in the intimidation of slaves, whose naturally larger numbers could overwhelm even an experienced Jaffa column through the simple power of a mob. The synchronized and sharp metallic thuds of a Jaffa column never failed to send shivers down the spines of those who heard it; it was a sound engrained in the minds of countless worlds as one of destruction, subjugation and the will of hateful gods.

The First Prime's eyes swept the approaching column's armour in brief inspection. No matter how impervious a Jaffa's armour was to the weapons which slaves and humans could fashion, there were still weaknesses. Gaps, especially on the upper legs and arms of the armour where armouring would mean too great a loss in mobility and melee fighting presented a risk to the wearer. More than once Teal'c had seen even the strongest Jaffa felled by something as simple as a human wielding a sharpened wooden spear when it was stabbed into that area. It was an unfortunate fact that those areas of a Jaffa's body were also where blood flowed greatly - to the extent it came rushing out in thick squirts - when dealt an injury. Often the Jaffa struck at one of these weak spots in their armour was dead in less than two minutes from blood loss that no Prim'ta to could stave off.

The column came to a perfect stop and Teal'c stepped forward to address them a last time. "I do not need to tell you that while this is a slave harvest we must remain vigilant. The humans of this world are quite aware that we often come to raid them and have been known to offer resistance each time. They are as fleet footed as a masta so it shall be challenging and time consuming to capture them. They can also make accurate and powerful crossbows and are known to be well skilled in their use. Keep your helmets closed unless you wish to present them an easy kill. Any human who threatens you in this manner is defying the will of our god and may be killed. Understood?"

"Yes, First Prime," the column chorused in one voice to acknowledge his words. Teal'c nodded in satisfaction and turned to the Control Pedestal as he and the other Jaffa triggered their armor's helmets. Plates hidden within the collar of their armour began to appear, shift and expand as if by the magic of their god. In moments where once had stood twelve mortal Jaffa and their First Prime now a formation of armoured serpentine warriors stood tall and intimidating. The glowing crimson eyes of Apophis' Serpent Guard stared coldly, inhumanly, upon the world around them.

With sure movements born of years of repetition he firmly pressed on the glyphs in the appropriate sequence to connect the Portal to Cartago. With each press one of the orange lights on the Chappa'ai activated and the inner track would spin until the symbol selected was under the top-most light. The upper portion of the ring would flex downward over the glyph, as if to draw in the symbol, before continuing on to the next. Finally, with a familiar whine of power the Portal roared into being with beautiful, but deadly, column of energy rushing outward seemingly wanting to engulf the entire Jaffa column before it. Then, as if the energy had been leashed, it was pulled back into the bounds of the Chappa'ai in a deceptively mellow rippling surface.

Teal'c always thought it looked like water, but knew it was as as far from 'water' as something could be. Once, during a battle he had forced enemy Jaffa into a defensive retreat, forcing them into the shadow of a Chappa'ai as they desperately fought on. When the Portal suddenly activated the surprised Jaffa had no chance to move, blocked as they were by oncoming staff blasts, and in the blinking of an eye the roaring 'water' of the Chappa'ai had reduced them into nothing, with only their lower legs remaining.

"Scouts," Teal'c ordered instantly. Six Jaffa at the front of the column immediately separated from the unit and rushed to stop just in front of the Chappa'ai's surface, the first two of the six lowering their Ma'tok. The weapons snapped open with a sharp click and the whining sound of energy coursing over the oval head echoed through the clearing. Ready to fire at the first sign of danger the two fearlessly stepped through the Portal. Silence reigned as the perfect discipline of the gathered Jaffa held them still while awaiting the scout's report. A few moments later Teal'c's attention was drawn to the blinking light of the wrist communicator on his left arm.

"_All is well, First Prime._"

Teal'c gave a simple hand signal and the remaining four Jaffa stepped through in perfect lockstep. He waited for another report before he turned to face the Portal. The six remaining Jaffa immediately fell into formation behind him and as they had countless times before marched through with their First Prime leading them. Teal'c experienced the brief disjointing sensation of Portal travel; half-imagined images of a twisting starfield rushing by through a twisting tunnel of light, feeling the rush of speed as he was flung through the Galaxy as if he was a feather caught in a strong storm, and a momentary loss of physical sensation as if he was not even in his own body. Then, in the space of a heartbeat the sensations vanished and he finished his step emerging through the Portal on Cartago with ease.

Cartago was a reasonably lush world with that had very little to no deposits of Naquadah or other resources precious to the Goa'uld. The planet's only true worth to Apophis was its human population; it was a favored world by simple virtue of the fact that the human stock had always been viewed as 'strong and beautiful specimens'. Indeed, the persistent belief was that the Goa'uld who originally controlled the world had chosen its original humans from the long lost First World for those very qualities. Those traits had bred true to form in their descendants as well.

Teal'c watched as his column fanned out and secured a perimeter, his eyes examining the area with experience and looking for anything amiss. As was usual for village of Byrsa the natives had vanished, but all other signs showed the area had only recently been abandoned. Cooking fires and fresh foods on tables, work interrupted before completion, and a cart full of grain left sitting in the center of the village square were sure signs of recent activity. Overall, there was nothing different about the village than on any of his other visits to the planet. Moving down the steps in front of the Chappa'ai he immediately noted that something heavy besides the boots of his Jaffa or an overloaded cart had disturbed the grass in front of the Portal and left shallow tracks in the soil.**  
**  
Familiarity with the local population had long taught him that their survival against the Goa'uld was based solely on their ability to evade the Jaffa on raiding parties such as these. At the first sight of the Portal's activation the population would scatter to the woods and hidden caves. Thus, they had developed a lifestyle based around mobility and speed; large bulky carts so burdened as to leave tracks in the grass and sail were not part of their life. Teal'c squatted down and gave the tracks the scrutiny only a master tracker could. The grass had not yet returned to its normal state showing that it was recent traffic, but the soil impressions had been disturbed slightly indicating foot travel over them after they had been made. The angle of the flattened grass indicated that the tracks began at the base of the Chappa'ai's steps and moved through the village. The only conclusion for the signs was that someone had come through the Portal. Whoever it was had arrived with a heavy cart of some sort and left without it or they were still on the planet.

The locals didn't use the Portal, and didn't know how...so...

"Te'lok."

The Prime in question hurried to his superior. "Yes, First."

Teal'c kept his body language neutral even though inside he was now tense and wary, "Be on your guard, this world has been visited, it is possible there are an enemy god's warriors here, poaching on our lord's rightful territory. Inform our brothers silently."

Te'lok eyes widened fractionally with alarm before they narrowed with determination. Nodding in both understand an acceptance of the order he returned to the perimeter. Teal'c was inwardly proud of how well trained this specific column was. The Prime hardly reacted at all to the news of possible battle and he knew the rest of the Jaffa in the unit were equally as disciplined.

"Jaffa, Kree! The humans will have fled for their caves. We must follow quickly if we are to capture any without the need for additional warriors. Do not make me report to our Lord that we were too slow to capture mere humans without reinforcements."

Bringing his Ma'tok staff into the ready to position Teal'c made a small hand gesture instructing his column to begin a cautious advance forward. Moving with both a speed and alertness that came only with hard-won experience the column quickly moved through the village and along a well worn and poorly camouflaged trail into the nearby foothills. As they neared the village proper he felt a strange sensation at the back of his neck that led him to believe that he was being watched. Another hand gesture brought the formation to a halt and he surveyed the village once again. Still there was no sign of any human presence and the sensors built into his helmet didn't show any sign of humans hiding in the nearby undergrowth or trees. Despite the proof to the contrary his instincts - instincts that had never failed him in all his years of service to Apophis - told him that he was being watched. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion he again gestured the column forward.

Still some distance from the village the path into the foothills narrowed and dropped down into a tight gully between two vertical formations of weathered, moss encrusted, stone forcing the column to bunch back up into a two-abreast formation with Teal'c in the lead. A feeling of cold tension began to form in his stomach, gripping him as he led his brothers down into the gully. Every lesson drilled into him by first Master Bra'tac and then long years of service was telling him that this would be a perfect place for enemy Jaffa to ambush and quickly eliminate his column. His instincts telling him that they were still being watched only served to further heighten the tension. The gully lasted a fair length before opening once again to a trail into the cavern-filled foothills on the other side. The limited room to maneuver would leave little in the way of options for escape or return fire for he or the rest of the column.

Each step through the gully felt like years as both Teal'c and the Jaffa under his command maintained their outwardly bold and fearless march. Tension gave way to relief when finally they passed out of the gully and stepped onto the trail leading through the foothills to the various caves used by the villagers. Teal'c began to believe that in all likelihood whichever enemy Jaffa had been here had since departed via the Chappa'ai. They had no doubt taken a great many of the fittest villagers as new slaves or hosts for their master, he thought with a mental sigh, but it was the unknown cargo which had obviously been left behind that allow for a continued sense of wary caution.

"First, I do not believe that any of the enemy Jaffa remain on this planet," Te'lok said softly over the comm device in their helmets.**  
**  
After a moment of consideration Teal'c offered his response and gave direction and reassurance he did not truly feel to his subordinates. "I agree. We will interrogate any surviving villagers we find; our lord will want to know whose Jaffa have dared to violate his domain." Though his voice and tone held the anger that was expected of a First Prime who'd discovered his gods domain had been invaded his true thoughts and emotions were less focused the deed itself and more over the who and why. It was then that the knot of tension in his stomach vanished under an suffocating sense of dread. His pace along the trail came to an abrupt halt, startling the Jaffa behind him.**  
**  
Hidden behind the facade of his helmet no one alive would see the wide eyed expression of realization that had come over Teal'c's face. So totally out of character, the expression would have shocked any who witnessed it and tales of the event would be retold for generations. However, the slow translation from unguarded shock to stoic, resigned, acceptance would have instilled a deeply foreboding sense of dread in any loyal Jaffa. It was the look of a First Prime who had accepted his death, the death of the Jaffa under his command, and of his God. Teal'c closed his eyes briefly while ignoring the world around him as he refocused on the task at hand despite the grim certainty he now held.

Ra was not dead.

Jaffa were not poaching from Cartago, but rather enacting the will of their god in retribution for Apophis' poaching of their Lord's domain.

He and his Jaffa were as good as dead and soon Apophis would follow.

Despite a grim satisfaction at knowing his "god" would soon follow him into the afterlife, Teal'c refused to simply laydown and die at the hands of Ra's Jaffa. Serpent Guard would meet Horus Guard and no quarter would be given. With a gesture to the Jaffa behind him the First Prime of Apophis resumed his march and his loyal warriors followed obediently. Soon the trail lead the column into a dense copse of trees along the side of the rocky foothills limiting visibility and once again increasing the likelihood of an ambush.

With a few hand gestures he instructed the Jaffa to spread out a little into a wider formation as they advanced cautiously through the woods. Fog rolled along at shin-height through the dusk-darkened foothills and the serpentine eyes of his warrior cast a pale crimson glow on the otherwise pale environment. All the while Teal'c still felt like he was being watched despite no new evidence to support the sensation. A wide range of potential reasons for the conflicting situation ran through his well trained mind and all of them simply reinforced his conclusion that Ra was indeed enacting his first steps of retribution against his long-time rival.

As the column passed out of the woods and into a large clearing outside one of the main caves in the hills Teal'c did his best to put all other concerns out of his mind. As he would have expected the clearing was quiet and deserted. Yet strangely, there were no signs of the fleeing villagers having passed through to the cave entrance on the other side.

It only added to Teal'c's unease about the whole situation.**  
**  
Movement abruptly caught his attention and he whirled in the direction it came from, opening the weapon end of his Ma'tok with a snap ready to fire. Only to see nothing, beyond a softly fluttering of wings as a bird took flight from a tree in the distance. A small part of his mind idly noted the similarity between the bird and one in a decorative rug on the floor of the house he and his wife Dray'ac had been given as a wedding gift by Apophis himself years before.

The abrupt discharge of a Ma'tok's plasma bolt made him spin around again just as Te'lok fired another shot at something moving in the deep shadows cast around the clearing by the angle of the setting sun and the tall trees of the woods. He started to open his mouth to demand an explanation from the experienced warrior when a flash of what looked like flame erupted briefly from the distant shadows across the clearing. In that moment time slowed down for the First Prime of Apophis. A deep booming sound immediately followed the flash echoing through the air with an almost physical sensation. Abruptly, Te'lok's chest seemed to explode in a flash of smoke, sparks and blood as something ripped through his armour and the fragile flesh beneath. The impact sent Te'lok flying back with a scream of agony before he crashed down and lay still in a rapidly spreading pool of blood. A heartbeat later saw the crimson glow on the fog rolling away from the fallen Jaffa fade away as the eyes of his serpent helmet dimmed to a dull, pale red as the Jaffa's life was extinguished.

"Jaffa, Kree," Teal'c yelled instructing his fellows to locate the attacker just as another burst of sound came from somewhere off to his right followed by another to his left. Something slammed into his staff, ripping it from his startled hands with the sheer force of the impact. A millisecond later searing, white hot pain unlike anything he'd experienced since he was branded First Prime exploded in his right arm and leg and sent him sprawling to the ground with a scream.

Through a red haze of pain he heard the familiar sounds of staff weapons firing as the remaining Jaffa attempted to flush whoever was attacking them out of their hiding places. The deeper booming noise of the unknown weapons answered repeatedly and was soon joined by two more in separate directions. The crossfire continued amid screams and shouts from his brothers as they came under fire from multiple directions at once. He could see movement in his peripheral vision as one of his warriors after another fell to the assault. **  
**  
The crossfire halted and an unnatural silence descended on the clearing. His remaining Jaffa have apparently moved into sufficient cover. Teal'c tried to move, to rejoin his brothers in battle against what he was sure were Ra's Jaffa. Clearly Ra had provided his forces new, and devastating, weapons. However, as he began to sit up the jarring of his arm overwhelmed his senses with a fresh wave of agony and he fell back once again barely able to withhold a scream as both his wounds flared in protest.

Despite the mind-numbing pain of Teal'c's wounds a fresh exchange of fire from both sides erupted piercing the searing pain that enveloped him. It was immediately clear to Teal'c that Ra's forces had planned their ambush well as he only heard a handful of staff blasts indicating their initial assault had greatly thinned his own forces. After a third volley of the odd booming sounds even those ceased. Silence once again filled the clearing and it filled Teal'c with a cold sensation that had nothing to do with his injuries.

The pain from his own wounds began to fade as his prim'ta finally began healing the injuries and adrenaline flooded into his system. Grimacing behind his helmet he sat up and tried to draw his Zatnikatel sidearm, only to pause at what his eyes beheld and his mind finally accepted: all of his fellow Jaffa, seasoned warriors feared for their numerous victories against horrific odds, were lying on the ground amid spreading pools of blood. His warriors, his brothers, were clearly dead. Figures began to emerge from the shadows around the clearing. Dressed in armour with helmets unlike anything he'd seen before, Ra's forces were appearing from behind cover in all directions. All of them were carrying strange but powerful looking weapons, weapons that had just cut his small column to ribbons in mere moments. They had been surrounded all along and they'd never known. 

Accompanying Ra's Jaffa were a posse of the Byrsa village's males, armed with their formidable crossbows which they immediately trained on him as his movements caught their attention. In an instant they fired, sending a storm of bolts towards him which, thankfully ricocheted off his armour. It was then, the sun angled through the trees to illuminate the face of an oddly familiar Byrsan whose expression held an odd mix of loathing and satisfaction. The man leveled his crossbow with deliberately slow, precise, movements and fired. The wickedly aimed bolt struck true through the damage in his armour over his already wounded arm. A new wave of searing pain lanced into his brain and his muscles involuntarily jerked, knocking him onto his back once again. This time the impact jarring his wounds enveloped him in an agony he could not contain and he couldn't stop the cry of pain that escaped.

Darkness began to slowly encroach upon his vision as pain, shock and blood loss began to take its toll on his body. Despite the best efforts of his larval Goa'uld to mitigate the effect his body had simply sustained too many shocks in too short a period. Through the increasing darkness he felt someone taking his knife and Zatnikatel from him, before touching the retract button on his helmet. The bright light of the sunset assaulted his eyes as it pierced the treetops directly ahead of him and through the haze Teal'c faintly saw one of Ra's Jaffa standing over him.

Without thinking he started to raise his good arm to try and trip up the warrior, to offer one final resistance before he was slain like his brothers. The unknown Jaffa casually avoid the swing and stamped down hard on the offending arm, striking with enough force that their was an audible crack as a bone in his wrist broke, sending another burst of molten-pain up his spine and into the First Prime's brain.

It was one pain to many. The darkness that had been encrouching on his vision rushed in like a flood, carrying Teal'c down into a deep dark place. His last thought was of the words Bra'tac had once spoken to him when he was still young and arrogant.

"_If there is one thing you must learn Teal'c it is that arrogance has its cost. All Goa'uld are arrogant and they must all pay for it. Look upon this dead world child and know it was once a home to Apophis' Jaffa just as Chulak is. It is lifeless and barren now because of Apophis' arrogance in seeking to poach what belonged to the Supreme System Lord. This, my young student, is the Sun God's Legacy: those who defy him suffer, but those who serve the defiant are left dead and consigned to cautionary tales._"**  
**  
Staring sightlessly as the Cartago sky Teal'c knew then that he was now consigned to be nothing more than another cautionary tale - another chapter in the Sun God's Legacy. "You serve your god well..." he murmured.

Then he knew no more.

* * *

Jack O'Neill looked down on the big, bald, dark-skinned Jaffa below him and lifted up his combat boot - he looked carefully to see if the guy was faking it, but it didn't seem so. His eyes found the forehead of the Jaffa and saw the solid gold plated circular symbol showing a wavy snake in relief. Jack had known this was the squad leader simply by his position in the formation of Jaffa. Team 3 on Gate watch had already pegged the guy in any event, but the gold forehead tattoo was final confirmation on the potential intel goldmine they had just snagged.

"Coleman!" he snapped to one of SG1s two resident medics, who immediately rushed over from his position, "Get over here and patch this guy up."

"Yes, sir." Coleman detaches his backpack and hurriedly got to work.

Jack backed away and let the medic get to work. "Everybody else keep you damn distance from the bodies!" He noted some of the natives coming closer to the dead Jaffa bodies curiously and occasionally directing awe struck looks at SG1, but at Jack's shout they jumped away as if scalded by hot water. The LECU armour had flexible finger-width armour plates meshed around the neck as part of it, protecting his team from any attempts at a Goa'uld parasite trying to jump ship from another Goa'uld host or Jaffa in field ops.

The only way a possession could conceivably happen was if they were captured and the armour removed. There was even rumors of a proposal that future versions of the LECU and other armours that were on the drawing boards offer the wearer a 'Capture Denial' option. Which was military speak for, 'I can blow my own head away.' Jack didn't like it, but he'd rather be dead than a host for the enemy, leaking the existence of Earth and other vital intel, not to mention the capability of the Goa'uld to put you in a sarcophagus and resurrect you even from death had the Intel weenies screaming fits.

In any event, the Byrsans didn't have protection, and he wouldn't have a possession occur on his watch if he could help it.

Carter approached him and her gaze settled on the downed Jaffa, "Sir, isn't that..."

"Their rough equivalent of a Brigadier General? Yeah... not bad for our first real mission."

"Think he'll make it?"

"He better. Make sure you get Team 2 to grab their staffs, and those Serpent helmets, see if we there's any difference with Ra's. Oh, and what do you make of this doohickey?"

Carter accepted the shiny metallic grey device with sinuous lines that Jack had taken from the First Prime. It was clearly a weapon of sorts, due to it's convenient holster on the Jaffa's arm and the pointed end. She turned it carefully in her gloved hands. There was odd chiming sound as she felt her hand brush over a small circular raised portion of one end, the device suddenly snapped open, uncoiling into an S-shape. It happened so suddenly she almost dropped it.

"Ah, easy there," Jack winced.

"Clearly an energy sidearm of sorts, sir."

"You can play with it back home, Captain."

"Yes, sir." Sam pushed a finger against the same spot and the weapon snapped closed, before she put it in a secure container for transport.

It took Coleman some fifteen minutes of work before he declared that he at least stabilized the First Prime for transport after treating the Jaffa's wounds as best as he could. While the man worked O'Neill had stared thoughtfully at the wounded Jaffa. "_ 'You serve your god well' ,_" he thought, "_was an odd thing to say right. Why would he think we were Jaffa?_"

"Something wrong, sir?"

"No Carter. Just something he said before passing out. Worth following up on...could be useful," Jack replied as an idea began to form in his head. If this Jaffa, a big-wig by all indications, could think they were Jaffa it could work elsewhere too. How better to keep off the Goa'uld radar than to have them looking at one another. His mind's eye recalled images of the numerous Jaffa helmets from Ra's warriors sitting in Area 51's storage lockers. It was then that something clicked in his memory.

One of the numerous briefings he had been forced to sit through over the past year summarized the state of the Goa'uld Empire as the Tollan knew it. Their intel wasn't the best, but they did try to keep abreast of the latest big developments with the snake-heads. Apparently things were still in total disarray and chaos after Ra's death. The chief snake-head's Jaffa and Underlords were not going to go down easily or quietly; many still protesting that Ra was alive. Skirmishes, raiding parties, full space battles, and assassinations-aplenty had just about every System Lord fighting each other plus Ra - despite his being dead for years now.

Well if they wanted to believe Ra was alive and it was his forces mucking about their territories...

"Could be useful indeed," he whispered as a devilish grin spread unseen on his face.

* * *

**SGC Area 51  
****Level 5: Conference Room  
Abydos**

The fifteen occupants of the cluttered room stared at the small, cloudy-white crystal sitting inside it's foam-padded case resting at the center of the conference table. This was the Holy Grail of each of their respective three projects and the focus of their work since the day the Goa'uld Death Glider was first cracked open. Now, sitting there innocuously was the answer to every frustration, the key to unlocking avenues of research thought closed for years to come, and the validation of countless man-hours of research and work.

It was the first one hundred percent Earth-made control and data crystal.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," began Franklin Schertz the Lead of Project Prism, "Project Prism has succeed. Thanks to a few subtle and obscure questions asked of the Tollan Instructors we were able to overcome several of the setbacks we had been experiencing. Not only that, but thanks to our discrete observation of Tollan cystals verses Goa'uld crystals, and a little reference to the new elements discovered with the Heliopolis archive we were able to come up with some improvements of our own. Initial testing shows a nearly thirty-five percent improvement in storage capacity and processing capabilities over the Goa'uld crystals found in the Death Gliders, and a nearly twelve percent improvement over the small Tollan data crystal we acquired."

He waited a moment for the second shocking revelation of the evening to sink in to the gathered R&D staff.

"Now, with the successful completion of Prism, Project Cray can begin focusing on adapting what we've learned from the alien computers to making our own with these crystals. I'll be sorely disappointed if I find Windows loaded on one of these. Furthermore, those of you on Project Gibson can begin finding new and inventive ways of crashing Goa'uld Computers with our shiny new ones."

The members of Project Gibson, consisting of purely under-thirty year old hackers, gave their counterparts on the Cray team sinister grins at the news. Sure, they'd had plenty of success in simulations between current Earth technology versus the simulated Goa'uld systems, but now the real fun could begin with systems on equal playing fields.

Well, not so equal actually. One thing Project Gibson learned almost immediately after its formation was that the Goa'uld had almost no concept of Cyber Warfare. Their encryption was wholly laughable to the team of six and the "antivirus" and firewall systems in place were simply pitiful. What truly boggled their minds though, was the only slightly better off state of Tollan computing. It was almost as if no one else in the galaxy had ever thought about it beyond the most basic levels. In many ways the members of Project Gibson were offended; in many other ways their sadistic sides were cackling in mad glee.

While the the Gibson project members were busy loosing themselves in daydreams of wreaking havoc on the Goa'uld in Cyberspace, the members of Project Cray were lost in far different dreams. The plateau current Earth technology had reached in regards to computing was something they were intimately familiar with. Yes, innovation and improvement continued, but everyone knew that no new major breakthroughs could occur until something broke in regards to the medium utilized. Now that the long awaited breakthrough had come, and done so with such staggering success it was time to put it to use.

Franklin cleared his throat to once again regain the room's attention. "Those of us from Prism will begin work on improving and expanding that," he continued with a gesture to the crystal that started the meeting,"we can't take this for granted. The big boys at the top of the food chain know about our success so you can expect to be mobbed by the folks from the other projects soon. Get some sleep, it's going to be hard to come by for a while."


End file.
